Eliminate The Impossible
by Galfridus
Summary: "... and whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." When Escanor is in London, down on his luck, he searches for an affordable place to rent. Little does he realise the adventures that await as he and new flatmate Merlin solve cases and track down the organisation that is the nucleus of London's crime. Can they eliminate the threat before it eliminates them?
1. 221B Baker Street

_A/N Hi! Thanks for giving this a go, especially if you are a fan of Sherlock Holmes. _

_This fic is intended to be an homage to the Holmes canon, the BBC's "Sherlock" and to some original stories written for BBC Radio 4 by the amazing Bert Coules, who did a fantastic job dramatising parts of the canon and writing up the cases mentioned in the stories which Conan Doyle never penned. Coules's "The Further Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes" is available on Audible and I would really recommend listening if you have a subscription. _

_I hope this fic doesn't feel like a blow for blow recreation of those stories (the connections are pretty loose in places), but if you're familiar with them I hope you will recognise the cases which inspire each chapter._

_Thanks to lickitysplit for beta reading this story - I could not ask for a better collaborator and friend - and Tumblr's bertazsleepyhead for her unfailing encouragement and feedback. This is dedicated to you Ely. If you're a fan of Escalin and haven't already checked out her art, please please do!_

* * *

Rain, light but insistent, settled over his clothes. Escanor sighed as he brushed water droplets from his jacket. It had been a year since he had trudged along these streets, eyes raking over the ground for signs of puddles and other mess to avoid, smelling the dust and the grime of the city. London had an atmosphere all of its own: joyous, exciting, frenetic almost, bursting with activity. But it had never seemed to include _him. _As he walked past shiny black doors and ornate silver knockers, an outsider amidst the obvious wealth, he felt his heart begin to sink. It was a long shot, this appointment.

The flat he was on his way to view was obviously too good for him. When Escanor had found the place, a flatshare at 221B Baker Street in one of the more salubrious parts of the city, his jaw had literally dropped. The rent looked far too good to be true; according to the website, everywhere else in the area was a least twice the price. As Escanor pulled up the collar of his coat in a failed attempt to ward off the rain, he wondered what the catch might be.

That was why he was here, on a drizzly Tuesday morning, to see the room he could by some miracle afford. He glanced at his reflection in one of the lower-ground windows of the apartments that lined the streets, heart sinking to see that he looked forlorn and dishevelled, his sandy hair limp, his limbs spindly and weak and his face radiating anxiety. He held out little expectation that he would be taken on as a tenant. Everyone looking for a place to rent in London must be swarming on the flat by now, and there was almost no one in the city with a worse appearance or worse prospects than him.

As he neared what must be the building in question, Escanor pulled up short, his feet skidding on the pavement. He could hear the sound of banging and shouting and, he jumped slightly on realising, even breaking glass. He looked up at the rows of windows, wondering what exactly he should do. The noises were definitely coming from 221B, and they definitely sounded violent.

He was on the point of reaching into his pocket to retrieve his phone, wondering with some apprehension what it would be like to dial 999 for the first time in his life, when the door flung open and out stumbled a man. Escanor just about had time to register messy silver hair, a long, mustard coat, overly-broad shoulders and a face that could turn water to stone.

Then the man got to his feet and yelled at the top of his voice, "I hope you burn in hell. You… you… creep!"

To Escanor's dismay, the stranger began stomping down the street, seemingly ploughing straight towards him.

"Look out!" Escanor called, his voice high with panic. He jumped out of the way just in time before the stranger battered painfully into him, hissing a little under his breath. He dusted off his clothes, then looked up at the tall man who had stopped beside him, quaking a little to see the other had glaring, black eyes. He must be wearing contacts or something.

"Are you going _there _?" the man asked unceremoniously as he pointed a long finger towards Escanor's destination.

Several possible replies flashed through Escanor's mind. _It's none of your business. You owe me an apology. How _dare _you behave in such an inconsiderate way. _But instead he found himself stuttering, "Y-yes. I… um… have an appointment to view the room."

"Then I can save you the trouble. Don't bother." The man drew himself up to his full height, which was considerable. "The… _woman _who lives there's a witch. Stay away." With that, the stranger set off back down the pavement, stomping off in the direction of the underground station.

Escanor hesitated. As his breathing started to return to normal, the world was suddenly full of sounds: the purr of car engines, the distant wail of a siren, the odd squarks like peacocks that the bus doors made when they opened. On the alert once more, Escanor began to turn on his heels, to head away from the mess that was central London and the vague unease caused by his encounter with the large man.

But something stopped him. Escanor found himself looking up at 221B and what he saw made his jaw go slack. There, for all to behold, was the silhouette of a woman, slender and sleek, long dark hair falling straight down to her shoulders as she closed the sash window before her. He could not make out her features; yet still, on seeing her he felt a little calmer. She looked so serene even from this distance.

Silently he continued on his way. He paused outside 221B waiting for the door to open before he remembered where he was and pressed a trembling finger to the bell. A few moments later he heard the sound of muffled footsteps, followed by the rattle of a chain and the scrape of a key in the lock. Then the door opened and Escanor was altogether very disappointed. The woman before him was not the one he had expected to see.

"Who are you then?" the young woman demanded, her hands on her hips and mouth pressed to a very thin line. "Are you one of Estarossa's friends? Because if so, you're not welcome…"

"N-no," Escanor stuttered. "I-I'm here about…"

"He is here for the room, Jericho. Show him up."

At the sound of the slightly muffled call, the woman in front of him dropped her shoulders, her hands falling to rest at her sides as her face relaxed into a smile. "I'm so sorry, sir," she said ingratiatingly. "Been having some trouble with one of the former lodgers. Please do come in." At this she moved backwards into the hallway, her yellow and white summer dress swishing as she moved, and Escanor tentatively stepped over the threshold.

The place was dark. That was the overriding impression as he made his way into the flat. It was as if the forest green wallpaper and carpet sucked out the light before it could make much impression, the effect not helped by a gleaming mahogany table covered in knickknacks and gloomy oil paintings which cluttered the small space. It was evidently well cared for however, the smell of wood polish and some sort of artificial lemon making the place more pleasant than he might have expected.

"I'm Jericho," his host said by way of introduction. She glanced over her shoulder, her lavender ponytail bobbing merrily as she moved, and her shrewd eyes gave him a quick once over.

"Hurry up! This gentleman has not got all day."

Now he was further into the apartment, Escanor could make something of the voice which issued these commands from the floor above. It was clear as a bell and ringing with authority, low-pitched enough that it did not jar his nerves despite the strident tone. Jericho's back stiffened a bit, but she picked up the pace and very soon they were ascending a set of creaking steps. He counted fourteen of them before they reached the top. His host moved aside to give him access to a door that was painted white; he frowned in puzzlement upon seeing it sport a plaque that read "Consulting Room".

"Come in," the voice called before Escanor could knock, "and fetch tea, Jericho. He takes it white with one sugar."

Escanor jumped slightly at this - it was indeed how he preferred his brew - and he turned to his host in astonishment, but she was already heading back down the stairs. "I'm your landlord, not your housekeeper," he heard her mutter crossly before she disappeared into the darkness below. Arm shaking, Escanor reached out and pressed down the handle of the door, which swung open without so much as a squeak.

The room he walked into assaulted his senses. It was _bright _, golden sunlight streaming through a large pair of windows and he winced, holding a hand up to shield his eyes. It had evidently decided to stop raining now that he was inside. He squinted against the glare, head darting round as he tried to find the source of the smell, or rather smells, which hung in the air. He closed his eyes, and visions of white lab coats, plastic goggles and test tubes came to his mind. Were there _chemicals _in here? Dangerous ones? He felt the familiar woozy sensation that had plagued him so much, his tongue refusing to work as his breathing rushed and his body shut down.

"Do you have these often?" the voice asked with interest. Escanor sensed her presence as she moved around him. "You had better sit down." At this, he felt himself guided to some sort of sofa and he collapsed into it with relief. He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing. _Short in, long out. Short in, long out. _

He heard the sound of the door opening, the chink of china and muffled conversation. He was not sure how many minutes passed as he tried to regain control, but by the time a mug of hot tea was pressed into his hands he was at least able to swallow and the tightness in his chest had begun to subside. His companions stayed silent as he started to drink, his hands shaking but not enough to spill the beverage, and he was grateful for the lack of conversation and prying remarks. As soon as he had mastery of himself he would leave this place and never look back.

The silence continued. He gulped, and looked down at his shoes, his face glowing red. "I-I'm so sorry," he managed to croak out to the room at large. "This is humiliating. Please excuse me." Escanor made to rise, but felt a hand on his shoulder, holding him in his place on the sofa. He glanced sideways, his nerves taking another jolt as he realised the woman he had spied through the window was now sitting beside him, and that there was barely an inch between them.

"Is he alright?"

Escanor heard the voice, and struggled to place it. It was with a jolt that he heard the woman snap, "He will be fine, Jericho, if you refrain from making so much noise. Our guest is having a panic attack. Now, tell me, is this why you left your job in Afghanistan? Or was it Iraq?"

"W-what?" Escanor spluttered.

The woman, for it was she who had spoken, sighed dramatically and folded her hands in her lap. "It's very obvious," she scolded. "You have clearly been working in a stressful environment. You are having panic attacks and have lost a considerable amount of weight recently, judging by the poor fit of your clothing." Escanor rubbed his hands down the front of his jacket, the blush in his cheeks intensifying under his interlocutor's gaze. The suit was indeed too big for him, but he could not afford another.

"That on its own, of course, is not enough for a concrete deduction," the woman continued, oblivious to his discomfort, "but I was watching you through the monitor as you arrived." At this she gestured to a television fixed to the wall which was showing grainy pictures of the interior of the house and the street below. "You paused at the door, and it was not because you were questioning whether or not to come in, I could tell from your gait. You were waiting for someone to open it for you. There are only two places in the world where a lower-grade civil servant like yourself would have doors opened on their behalf: the compounds in Afghanistan and Iraq."

Escanor swallowed, completely taken aback. "I-it was Iraq, but… how did you know? I mean, how do you know I was a civil servant?"

"Oh, there are at least seven separate indications. I will give you the most obvious. The ribbon of a lanyard is sticking out of your pocket. This is evidently the suit you wore to work. From the fragment visible, it is possible to determine that the ribbon has the letters 'PCS' on it. Only a UK civil servant, and one from the lower strata of the organisation at that, would own a lanyard as supplied by the Public and Commercial Services Union. If you had been in senior management you would have joined the more exclusive alternative."

"Y-you are quite right," Escanor spluttered. He looked at the woman beside him more carefully. She was smiling at him, but her perfect red mouth was twisted into something like a smirk, and the bright, amber eyes held no warmth in their depths. It was a beautiful face though, the skin smooth and flawless framed with strands of glossy black hair. He could practically feel her energy and life.

"So, _this _man was a soldier?" Jericho took a step towards him, peering into his face. "He doesn't look much like one if you ask me, Merlin. And why were you in Iraq anyway?" she added sharply to Escanor. "The war's over."

Merlin gave an audible tut as Escanor started. "Do not trouble yourself with an explanation," she said to him kindly. "Jericho, once the British government pulled its soldiers out of Iraq, the nascent administration there needed significant support. And who do you think provided that assistance? The civil servants of Her Majesty's government."

"But you said he lived in a compound," grumbled Jericho as she folded her arms across her chest, "and that he couldn't open the door or some nonsense. That sounds like what soldiers do?"

"Civilians do also, specifically those who work for the Foreign Office. The environment is a long way from being safe. As you might expect, the government takes the security of the staff who work very seriously. They are confined to compound for their own protection, and a number of security measures are put in place, including doors that can only be opened manually from the inside."

Merlin's smile quivered for a second before she stood, the folds of her deep purple dress falling around her. She looked at Escanor, the thin skin around her eyes crinkling slightly. "I will end the suspense. The room is yours," she announced as she towered over him. "You will be a quiet, respectful lodger. Unlike the last one," she put in darkly. "You can move in today, though I cannot vouch for the present state of Estarossa's room. Jericho see that it is acceptable, would you? And call me Merlin," she added over her shoulder as she moved with a fluid grace towards the other end of the room while Jericho rolled her eyes, sending a sharp look in Merlin's direction before flouncing to the exit, muttering under her breath.

Escanor also stood, now acutely aware of the excess fabric that covered his body. His eyes had adjusted to the light, and he noted white walls that were marked with smudges and even some scribbles with what looked like red marker. The fireplace to his right had a creamy marble surround, the grate filled with fir cones, and the top chocked full of odd artefacts, including a silver dagger that looked alarmingly sharp. To his left lay a table covered in glass beakers, one of which was smashed to pieces, a Bunsen burner and a pestle and mortar. Evidently he had been right about the chemicals. It was this bench to which Merlin was making her way.

If he had expected more by way of conversation from his new roommate, none was forthcoming. "I'll… um… go and get my belongings," he said apologetically. Merlin ignored him, her focus fixed on one of the test tubes. "And my name is Escanor," he added into the silence.

Muttered incoherence was the only response he received. Unsure of himself, Escanor moved to the door. It was not until his he had pulled it open that Merlin called, "You don't object to music, I hope."

"I'm sorry?"

Escanor turned to see Merlin looking at him closely. "I play the violin," she explained. "It helps me to theorise. I trust that will cause you no inconvenience."

"None at all," Escanor replied, his eyebrows rising. This woman was nothing if not surprising. Seeing that she had returned to her task with the beakers, he shrugged his shoulders and slunk from the room.

* * *

The next weeks passed in something of a blur. It had taken Escanor just one trip to relocate his belongings from the rundown bedsit he was renting south of the river to the much nicer environs of Baker Street. It had felt like a weight off his shoulders to move away from a neighbourhood that was haunted with knife crime and where the sickly smell of cannabis floated constantly on the breeze. The room he had been allocated in 221B did leave something to be desired - goodness knows what the previous tenant had used it for - but, with Jericho's help, he had managed to turn it into something that could be called cozy. The blankets matched the curtains, and the bedside lamp his landlord had found for him lent the place a pleasant, warm glow.

It was once life had settled into a sedate routine that Escanor found his curiosity growing to insatiable levels. Who _was _his flatmate? Her name may be Merlin but that was the only fact he could discover about her, even with the aid of a Google search. All he knew was that the flat was far more visited than any domestic dwelling had any right to be. Visitors from all walks of life trudged up the stairs to the consulting room, and Escanor found it very frustrating that he could not divine what on earth they were doing in there. Merlin always banished him to his own room when she had company; she did not even have to ask, she just gave him an imperious stare and he obeyed without question.

In fact, he was so curious he began to make a list of everything he knew about Merlin and her occupation. Night after night he refined it, adding to its contents, but to no avail as far as his understanding was concerned. None of it made any sense. The woman he lived with had a remarkable knowledge of the analytical sciences, but appeared to have never heard of Stephen Hawking, or his work on the nature of the universe. Each day she read the newspapers avidly - all of them, from the Financial Times to the tabloids - but she had barely a grasp on current affairs. "We have a female Prime Minister?" she had asked in surprise after Escanor exclaimed aloud that Theresa May was hardly fit for the office she held.

Things came to a head over breakfast. Merlin had been looking progressively peeved for several days and that morning appeared to be on the point of apoplexy. She snapped harshly at Jericho as the latter laid bacon and eggs on the table. Their landlord shot Merlin a look that could turn blood to ice, before she swept from the room, muttering under her breath something that sounded like "Bloody ingrates," as she stomped. Escanor ate in silence, eyes fixed on his cutlery until Merlin's harsh voice made him snap to attention.

"The Enigma," she intoned and Escanor looked up sharply, drawing a harsh breath to see his companion was holding a familiar notebook.

"Hey, that's mine!" he protested, but Merlin, still reading the book, merely held up a hand.

"I suspected that you wrote poetry," she continued waspishly. "The merest glance shows that you do some sort of writing with an old fashioned fountain pen, one that leaks ink onto your fingers. But I would never have anticipated that you would write about _me _. This has been a most enlightening experience."

Escanor wished the floor would open and swallow him whole. "That's private," he managed to say, his voice sounding hoarse. He could barely breathe, barely think, his heart beating erratically and blood pounding in his ears. He felt faint, sick, and could hardly hear Merlin as she read out his poem, her voice mocking with a sing song cadence.

_Eyes like stars pierce the night _  
_Uncovering secrets…_

"That's quite enough of that." Escanor did not know where his resolve came from, but by some miracle he found himself upright and striding round the table towards the source of his humiliation. He managed to snatch the book from Merlin, who chuckled as he crumpled it into his pocket. Adrenaline rushed from him and he collapsed into the nearest chair, his vision swimming. He heard Merlin also rise from her seat, and then the scraping sound of the sash window opening, the cacophony of the city rushing into the room along with the aroma of petrol and a welcome cool breeze.

"There's no need to be ashamed," Merlin's voice scolded as Escanor swallowed, doing his best not to vomit. "I deduce that your therapist has told you to write in order to explore your feelings. It is an ineffective suggestion in my opinion, but you are at liberty to do what you wish in your free time. You did not have to write about _me _however. If you want to know what I do for a living, you only have to ask."

She laughed as Escanor processed this. "I will tell you, though I am surprised you have been unable to deduce the answer for yourself. All the clues you require are in your hand. As you correctly identified in your, ahem, missive, I have an extensive knowledge of analytical chemistry, human anatomy, forensic science and criminology: in fact all the subjects I need to solve intractable crimes. Or not so intractable crimes at the moment," she added bitterly before taking a sip of tea.

"People come to me with their problems and I solve them, the theory being that I will be the first port of call for the more outré puzzles that the police are unable to contend with. That is the theory. The reality is that the police are so overstretched that they are leaving even the most basic of crimes uninvestigated. In consequence, I have nothing but mindless activity. I do not even advertise, and yet I am dealing with petty thefts and missing dogs. Oh for something _refined… _"

Merlin's head turned sharply and Escanor found himself also looking round, trying to identify what had captured her interest. It took him a few moments before he spied a man on the monitor walking along the pavement towards their apartment. The image was grayscale and pixelated, but he could still make out that their visitor was tall, youthful if his springing steps were anything to go by, his long coat flowing around him as he strode.

"Perhaps I spoke to soon," Merlin mused. She walked to the door, opening it and shouting, "Jericho, bring up a fresh pot of tea, and show Gilthunder up when he gets here. He will ring right about… now." On cue, for Escanor saw Merlin had cast a sideways glance at the monitor, the sound of a bell echoed through the flat.

"Still not your housekeeper," Jericho yelled up the stairs, but the muffled noises suggested she had let the newcomer in. Escanor could hear the pair conversing in the corridor, and from the sound of things the two got on well enough.

Merlin chuckled then retook her place at the head of the table after positioning a chair evidently intended for the new arrival. Escanor felt his heart sink and his brow furrowed. What could be causing him this disappointment? It was true that he had always been interested in the art of detection, but that was years ago, before he had entered the Foreign Office and taken on one boring administrative job after another.

"You can stay if you want." The casual suggestion stopped him in his tracks and he turned in astonishment to see Merlin's red mouth twisted into a smile. She was obviously in a good mood. "I can tell that you want to, it is more than obvious. And Gilthunder can hardly object to your presence. He owes me too many favours to make any protest."

"W-who is he?" Escanor asked as he managed to get himself into one of the chairs, his legs trembling slightly. He held onto the wooden armrests, until he realised his knuckles were turning white, at which point he rested his hands in his lap.

"He is… well let me introduce him in person. Come in," Merlin commanded, seeming to anticipate the man's knock. "Gilthunder, nice to finally see you. This is Escanor, the new lodger. Escanor, meet Inspector Gilthunder of the Metropolitan Police, and his presence here means that he has something less than dull that he would like to discuss."


	2. A Study In Turmoil

A/N: The inspiration for this was taken from an episode of Inside Number 9 (fans of that series will recognise the murder weapon).

Warning: descriptions of hoarding which some people may find difficult.

* * *

_Pink hair._ That was all he could think about as the police officer strode with an easy confidence into the room. _The man has pink hair_. Escanor did his best to look nonchalant and not to stare as Inspector Gilthunder moved towards him, hand outstretched. Self-consciously, he wiped his own hands on his trousers before unsteadily gaining his feet, wincing slightly as the man tightly clenched at his fingers. The young man certainly had a firm grip. The inspector shot him a thin-lipped smile, and Escanor could see the caution in his eyes, which were a piercing blue and alarmingly sharp. Young and pink haired this man may be, but he was clearly a force to be reckoned with.

Escanor sank back into his chair at the same time the inspector took his. "I take it you have something interesting this time," Merlin said languidly but Escanor could sense her excitement. It was in the way she sat, her back ramrod straight and her shoulders pinched in slightly. "Dare I hope it is a little less tedious than the last case you deigned to bring here?" With this, Merlin examined one of her sleeves, flicking an imaginary speck of dust away into the ether.

Gilthunder sighed. "How was I to know you'd solve it in five minutes? It had baffled us at the Met for days."

"No comment," Merlin gloated and Gilthunder's face reddened a little and he opened his mouth as if to protest. As the pair geared up for what was evidently to be an argument, Escanor felt his pulse beginning to race. He never could abide confrontation. As unobtrusively as possible, Escanor stood, but as he did so his balance faltered and his chair tumbled to the floor with a soft _thud. _

Both Gilthunder and Merlin turned to look at him. "What are you doing?" she snapped.

"I… um… I was just…"

"Then stop it." Merlin's lips narrowed to a line. "You wanted to know more about me? Well, here is your chance. For this one occasion I will permit you to witness a consultation. The good inspector will not mind, I am sure. He owes me too many favours to object."

The subject of Merlin's speech spluttered at this, and Gilthunder quickly set down the mug of tea he had started to sip from. "Will I now?" he said crossly as Merlin stared at him imperiously. Then he sighed once again. "Yes, very well. If you promise not to say a word of this to anyone."

"He used to work in Iraq. For the Foreign Office no less. He knows how to keep secrets." Escanor noted with some pride that Gilthunder shot him a respectful look at Merlin's revelation, and the police officer rose and righted Escanor's chair, which he gratefully took once more as the inspector returned to his own.

"This one has me stumped," Gilthunder admitted and he sat forward until his elbows rested on his knees. "On the face of it, it looks like a straightforward burglary gone wrong; there's a window that's been forced open from the outside, the grass underneath has been trampled flat. But there's nothing worth stealing in that place - a cursory glance tells you as much - let alone killing someone for."

"So, a murder." Escanor took a sharp intake of breath as Merlin actually rubbed her hands together.

Gilthunder nodded. "The body was found by the local police this morning. The victim was bludgeoned to death with an ornament, a small bronze statue of a hare to be precise. Happened some time yesterday. Forensics have confirmed that the murder weapon came from the property, and that there are no other clues as to the perpetrator's identity at this stage, though the samples may reveal more when they are properly analysed."

Merlin frowned and, despite himself, Escanor felt his interest growing. He had considered joining the police as a younger man, having much enjoyed reading the occasional Agatha Christie novel. He had even gone so far as to shadow some community support officers to get a better idea of the work. This had put him right off. The reality of patrolling a park littered with broken needles and used condoms had totally changed his intended career path.

So it was with some surprise that he found himself asking, "Um… inspector? You said that a thief would, um, know not to bother breaking into the… what is it a house? But how could they know that?" he asked as Gilthunder signalled his assent. "Many low-income households have valuable goods these days, like laptops and smartphones, and they're often easier to get into. They're common targets. I used to work for the Home Office and I read the research," he added by way of explanation as Merlin looked at him, eyebrows raised.

Gilthunder fished a notebook from his pocket, leafing through the pages of what Escanor could see was scribbled shorthand. "The victim was a hoarder, of the very worst kind," Gilthunder said with a bit of a shudder. "The house is in Bethnal Green and is... untidy to say the least. Every room is stuffed full of junk bought in charity shops and taken out of bins. I just can't see any self-respecting burglar targeting the place. And then the guy who lived there was ill and frail. There seems little point in killing him and risking a lengthy prison sentence."

"Are you sure it was the house and not this man who was the intruder's target?" Merlin asked sharply.

Gilthunder laughed. "Oh, yeah absolutely. His name was Dale," the inspector said as he referred to his notes. "He was a bit of a loner. It seems the victim only really spoke to his designated social worker, and that was unwilling on his part. He had a daughter and son, a young lady named Guila and a kid called Zeal, but they were estranged as far as I can tell. Phone records show the man hadn't spoken to his family for several years and the neighbours can't recall seeing them either. And neither of them benefit from their father's death. The neighbours didn't like him, or rather didn't like the smell, but they both have alibis we've been unable to shake so far."

"And what of the landlord?" Merlin asked sharply.

"I was just coming to that," Gilthunder complained. "As I was about to say, the landlord had a motive for wanting Dale out of his property, but I met the guy. He seemed patient enough and to feel sorry for his tenant. He was willing to go through the legal processes anyway. He'd hired a lawyer to try and get Dale evicted."

"Who is he?" asked Merlin, her eyebrows slightly raised.

Once more, Gulthunder checked his notes. "A Mister Arthur Pendragon of The Camelot Trust. Perhaps you've heard of him? He has a bit of a property empire in east London and is a well-known philanthropist."

"I recognise the name," Merlin said, with some interest. "I am surprised you do not have him as a person of interest. Hoarders do not, as a rule, improve property values."

"True enough, but I really don't think Pendragon's involved. If he was going to kill someone he'd hire a professional," Gilthunder said doggedly as Merlin folded her arms, drumming her fingers on her sleeves. "This was not a hit. The weapon was opportunistic and it was not a neat job. But you can see for yourself. My colleagues are processing the scene but they'll be finished soon. If you want to examine the body we had better make a move."

Merlin shot to her feet. "The game is afoot!" she said enthusiastically. "Escanor, hurry up would you? The good inspector cannot wait all day."

"M-me?" Escanor stuttered.

"You showed yourself to be not entirely ignorant earlier. I am familiar with the research you alluded to and agreed with your remarks. I can see you being of some assistance. Step lively." With that Merlin strode out of the room, ignoring the look of irritation that crossed Gilthunder's face. Escanor shot him an apologetic glance before following his flatmate out of the door.

* * *

"You weren't wrong about this place," Escanor muttered under his breath as the police officer led him and Merlin to the scene of the crime. They weaved past uniformed officers and a few people in hazmat suits, all of whom were talking in hushed voices. Several nodded to Gilthunder politely as he walked past, shooting him and Merlin suspicious looks but without presenting a challenge.

The whole building looked as if it was about to fall down. The brick walls were covered in splodges of an indeterminate nature, the windows were coated with a thick layer grime and, even without looking too closely, Escanor could see the rooms were over-cluttered, the windowsills stuffed full of artefacts piled on top of one another. But nothing prepared him for the stench that assaulted him when the inspector opened the door. He felt bile rise in his throat. The smell was like nothing he had ever experienced, a mix of damp and feces and dust and decay.

He had to shimmy sideways to get through the corridor, stumbling over stray plastic bags filled with empty bottles and cheap plastic cups. Merlin of course showed no such discomfort. She drifted through the house without so much as a misstep, gliding past frayed cardboard boxes and newspapers stacked to the ceiling. Once or twice she paused, leaning down to examine some minute fragment on the floor with a magnifying glass. She looked entirely at home, but he was not able to get past the melancholy that pervaded the house like a cancer.

"How can anyone live like this?" Escanor whispered as horror froze his insides.

Gilthunder sighed. "I did ask," he confided, casting a look over his shoulder and Escanor knew the police officer was checking that their exchange was unobserved. He had noted this behaviour in Iraq often enough; the military staff would tell him things but not if they thought they could be overheard. "The victim had a social worker, name of Gowther. According to his testimony, the hoarding started soon after Dale moved here. He had lost his job, his family, everything that mattered to him. Gowther reckons the hoarding was a way of compensating for the emptiness he felt. He could not bear to let anything else go, even if it was a used tissue. But the fellow is not a psychiatrist, so that may just be speculation. Dale refused Gowther's attempts to get him proper medical help."

They pushed their way from the corridor into some sort of study, Gilthunder leaning heavily on the door to create a wide enough passage. As he entered the room, Escanor gagged: the smell here was, if possible, worse than the rest of the house. Dozens of soda bottles were lined up against the wall opposite, all of them filled with a dark orange liquid, the sight causing Escanor to place a hand to his mouth as he desperately suppressed the urge to vomit. Quickly, he swung his eyes around the rest of the room, taking in the shards of glass lying on the carpet under the broken window. This is evidently how the intruder had entered the building.

There were piles and piles of books that crowded the rest of the space. Tomes were stacked high on the floor in untidy towers, some placed less haphazardly on a broken bookcase in what appeared to be height order, except for one shelf where a few had fallen onto their sides. Then his gaze fell to the skeletal body that was sprawled face down on the threadbare beige carpet, a pool of scarlet seeping outwards from the head.

Escanor watched as Merlin busied herself. The detective carefully examined the body, leaning over to take an inordinately close look at the victim's hands and face. Apparently satisfied, she then walked carefully over the room, taking careful paces around the piles of books, magazines and used envelopes, occasionally stopping to scrutinise what seemed like nothing at all.

But wait there was something! Perhaps…

Then, to Escanor's horror, she examined the bottles lined up against the far wall, even taking out her phone and shining a torch light into each one of them as she peered into their depths.

"What are you doing?" Gilthunder asked sharply.

Merlin had snapped on a pair of latex gloves. The detective had picked up one of bottles. She then fished out a test tube from her pocket, and carefully removed the screwcap of the bottle, pouring a small quantity of the ocre liquid within into the glass. Replacing the bottle on the floor, Merlin then removed a strip of what looked like paper from another pocket - how many of the things did she have? - and dipped it into the test tube. She then repeated the action with the rest of the bottles lined up against the wall, refusing to acknowledge Gilthunder's increasingly loud tuts.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity in the putrid atmosphere, Merlin straightened her back, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "Hypothesis confirmed," she said with satisfaction. "I observed that the more recent urine had a different appearance, and these test strips have confirmed it. The victim had acquired a drug habit in the last few weeks of his life. A post-mortem examination will reveal that he had large quantities of ketamine in his system."

"How do you know that?" Gilthunder asked, pen poised over notebook as he began to scribble.

"You can see the urine in the bottles towards this end of the wall has a darker appearance," Merlin explained. Escanor squinted hard. He could not see that at all, but was willing to take Merlin's word for it. "The man clearly had his effluent arranged in date order; despite appearances there is a clear method to the way his items are arranged. These test strips, which are commonly used by doctors and midwives, are capable of detecting even small traces of hormones and other substances. Using these, I have confirmed that this man expelled a quantity of blood in his urine, and only in the bottles used most recently."

"I still don't follow," Gilthunder grumbled. "That doesn't mean anything at all."

Merlin looked at him coldly. "Not on its own perhaps, but a mere glance at the rest of the room is all the confirmation you need to see that the victim had lost a grip on his reason, again only in more recent weeks. Look at that pile of books over there," Merlin said impatiently as both Gilthunder and Escanor stared at her, eyes wide. "If you would but observe, you will see that they are arranged by subject. But these stacks here," she added walking across the room to gesture at the objects of interest, "have just been dumped, unsorted. These books have clearly entered the house more recently as they have less dust on their surfaces. Something occurred to alter the victim's behaviour. Blood in the urine is highly suggestive of ketamine. The drug significantly increases the risk of bladder disease, surely you are aware of this Gilthunder," she barked impatiently.

Escanor could hear Merlin's voice as she and the inspector shared further remarks, but he found he could not follow the flow of their conversation. If he had felt queasy before he certainly did in that moment. The atmosphere of the house was making him acutely uneasy - it was like being trapped, unable to cook or do basic things for yourself, unable to go for a stroll outside of the compound knowing you could end up with a bullet in the back of your head. He swallowed furiously, trying to speak, but he could not stop the rising fear. His pulse began to quicken, his breath coming as almost painful pants. Sweat was breaking out between his shoulder blades and on his brow, but he somehow could not reach up to wipe it away. He could not breathe, could not think, and the room around him began to blur at the edges. He had to get out, right now.

He stumbled, dejection and self-loathing mixing with the tumult of emotion as he realised he could not put one leg in front of the other. Even in this state, he knew he did not want to fall to the floor, a dark stain, shaped like a splodge of paint welled in front of his vision. Swaying, he put every ounce of his concentration into staying upright, completely unable to call out for help.

He felt a sharp grip on his elbow. "Come with me," the voice commanded and Escanor let himself be led through the overstuffed corridor. The scene was a blur, walls and floor and piles of rubbish all faded round the edges. _Short breaths _he finally remembered, and he tried to follow the instructions he had been given the last time he had seen a medical professional. But the fear was too strong. All he could do was let whoever it was practically carry him out of the house.

Once outside, he found himself sitting on the stone of a small wall that surrounded the property. Unsure how much time had passed, he took huge gulps of the fresh-smelling air, such a treat after the putrefaction of the house. "Take it slowly," the sharp voice barked in his ear. "You need to regulate the amount of oxygen you are inhaling. Slow down." Escanor did as he was told, and gradually, very gradually, the world returned to normal. The sounds of murmured voices and the odd swish of tires running over tarmac replaced the uncomfortable press on his eardrums which had been making his dizzy, and it felt as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders.

"It's a panic attack," he heard Merlin mutter softly and all at once shame flooded through him. Of course. He was here with the consulting detective and the inspector, and he had well and truly made a proper fool of himself. He was on the point of rising when he heard Merlin say, "You too would have panic attacks if you had been systematically bullied by an incompetent manager for a period of at least eleven months, all while being trapped on a compound in a country torn apart by violence." Escanor once more was reeling, wonder and horror and fear mixing like a bad cocktail.

"H-how do you know that?" he managed to rasp out.

Both Gilthunder and Merlin turned towards him, the latter with a triumphant light in her amber eyes. "I take it my deductions are correct," she gloated.

Escanor nodded, then pressed his hands to his eyes. "It was… um… I…"

"There is no need to discuss it at present." Merlin paced towards him and laid a hand on his shoulder, and Escanor felt heat pool in his cheeks and push down his neck. "But you need to see a therapist," she chastised. "I am sure the last doctor you spoke to was of the same opinion. What I am less certain of is why you did not take up this offer. I, however, will brook no opposition. You will get the treatment you need and that is final. Now, you spotted something before the attack began. Tell us what it was."

"I, yes I did." With a shudder, Escanor cast his mind back to the room. "Something was odd," he mused as, unnoticed by him, his pulse returned to something approaching normality. "The envelopes," he said finally, after a few moments thought. "There were dozens and dozens of them, all stacked on the floor. But there were no letters. Why would the poor man have kept the envelopes and not what they contained?"

"Very good. Very good indeed," Merlin praised and the blush in Escanor's face deepened. "You have a reasonable eye. All you need is the logical process to draw inferences from the data. The reason the victim kept around fifty envelopes, organised in date order judging by the postmarks, but not the contents, is that they did not contain letters. Now, inspector, what would someone post through the mail, other than an old-fashioned epistle?"

The police officer scratched his head. "I couldn't say…"

"Cash!" Escanor looked at Merlin triumphantly. "That's why there was nothing but envelopes. They had money in them and that was spent!" Pride bloomed in his chest as the detective gave him a nod, a slight smile curving her lips.

"From your description, there is only one person who could reasonably have been expected to send the victim money: his daughter."

"Damn!" Gilthunder pulled out his radio and barked instructions, giving directions for the woman Guila to be brought in for questioning. "I did wonder how Dale was getting by," he said ruefully. "He didn't work and didn't sign on. I couldn't find any source of income. I can't believe I didn't think of it myself."

Escanor looked at Merlin only to see her face working and, to his surprise, he had to stifle a grin of his own. He still felt shaken, weak, but his flatmate's positive appraisal of his abilities had given him more joy than he had expected. "I guess the case is solved," he offered jovially. He pressed his hands into the stone of the wall to push himself to a standing position, wobbling slightly but managing to remain upright.

"The case was solved the moment I entered the room." Merlin looked at Gilthunder, completely unperturbed as the inspector gaped at her. "You said that the victim had a social worker. I assume the person you mentioned had entered the property?" Merlin continued as Gilthunder stared. "As I said, the solution is painfully obvious, but it does no harm to check one's conclusions. We need to see the gentleman in question, straight away."

"Why?" Gilthunder asked defensively. "I have questioned him, you know. He said nothing very useful."

Merlin raised her eyebrows as her smile spread into a grin. "For a start, the man will have known about the financial arrangement between the victim and his daughter. But equally, as a social worker he no doubt gained entry to the property on at least one occasion. He is therefore in a position where he can tell us what precisely was taken." With that, Merlin strode purposefully towards the inspector's car, the police officer following close in her wake as Escanor trotted shakily behind.


	3. Observation And Deduction

On the car ride, Escanor felt himself finally return to normal as his eyes ran over the rows of houses and pretty shop fronts that lined London's streets. Beside him, Merlin said nothing at all, her eyes sharp as she too examined the passers by. Gilthunder sat sulkily in the front passenger seat, grunting the odd word in response to his colleague's cheerful banter. The sullen atmosphere did not seem to bother sergeant Howzer in the least; he kept up a stream of chatter, a mix of station gossip and wry observations as they moved from roads bordered by more salubrious terraced houses to what could only be described as a run down estate.

"That girl is too young," blurted out the sergeant as they stopped outside a small playground set amidst the grey concrete buildings, his affable tone suddenly sharp. A traffic jam had clogged up the road, reducing the flow of cars to a painfully slow trickle.

Escanor felt Merlin sit up a little straighter beside him. "I presume you are referring to that young lady over by the swings," Merlin said, "and that you feel she is not of an age to be looking after the small child she is holding." Escanor peered through the opposite window to get a closer look. Sure enough, there was a girl, a tight ponytail scraped back on her head, a tiny baby cradled protectively in her arms. She was conversing with another teenager about her own age who was swinging back and forth as they talked. Escanor looked closely, and could see the streaks of mascara under the girl's eyes. She had clearly been crying.

"She can't be more than sixteen," Howzer spat in disgust as he inched the car forward a little. "She should be in school."

"Sixteen is her approximate age, I agree," Merlin said loftily. "Perhaps seventeen. But before you judge the young lady too harshly, sergeant," she added as Howzer gave an indignant splutter, "you should know that the child she cares for is not hers."

Escanor looked even more closely at the girl who was the subject of his companions' discussion. She was slight, almost painfully thin, her cheeks pinched and sallow, the clothes she wore hanging loose on her body. But the way she held the child was unmistakably tender. He watched as the baby started to cry, the girl immediately sitting down on the unoccupied swing. She took a bottle from the front pocket of her oversized hoodie and started to feed the child, who quieted in an instant, the girl kissing it on the head as it drank. "How do you know?" he asked Merlin to distract himself from the sadness he felt.

"For one, that baby is no more than a few weeks old. You can tell from the way she is holding it, it cannot support its own head. Are you really telling me that someone so soon out of pregnancy could be quite as skinny as that young lady? It can occur of course, indeed there are all sorts of reasons why, but if you look up a few metres you will see the child's mother, who is keeping an eye on proceedings."

Escanor followed Merlin's gaze. As she had suggested, watching carefully from one of the small balconies that belonged to the surrounding flats, was a woman draped in a pink dressing gown, her hair thin and mousy. Each of the apartments had its own little outside space, many decorated with pot plants or bicycles. This one was strung across with a washing line, tiny baby clothes pegged along it to blow in the breeze. The way the woman's eyes were trained to the girl and infant below was unmistakable.

"She flinched when the child cried," Merlin added as Escanor opened his mouth, "and relaxed when the girl handled the situation so sensibly." She turned to face the front of the car to say to the sergeant who was once more driving the car at a crawl down the road. "A dutiful daughter would by my hypothesis, staying home from school to assist her mother who has not been able to muster enough energy to shower this morning."

Howzer mumbled something under his breath as the car drew to a stop outside another small garden. This one too was surrounded by concrete, the flats which bordered the green on three sides almost identical to the building they had just passed, showing that they had been built as a set by the local government. These were affordable housing units, some of which had been sold and were now owned principally by pensioners and young professionals while others were rented by those on low incomes.

As they got out of the car, Gilthunder checked his notebook. "Gowther lives in flat fifty-three," he confirmed as he walked towards a set of stairs. That'll be on the fifth floor I expect. Merlin nodded her agreement, and the four of them set off up the steps, a faint aroma of spice drifting from some of the open windows and doorways. The flat they were looking for was close to the top, and soon Gilthunder was knocking at the red-painted door. It was a few seconds later that Escanor heard the pad of feet drawing closer, then the scrape of a chain before the door swung inwards on its hinges to reveal a rather odd looking man, eyes obscured by the shine of sunlight on his glasses. _What is it with the pink hair, _Escanor thought to himself as he examined the stranger before him, though this man's smooth bob was more of a magenta shade while Gilthunder's was lighter.

Gilthunder made the necessary introductions, he and Howzer producing their identification. The social worker seemed not to mind that Escanor and Merlin had no official standing, ushering the whole party into his flat. Escanor felt himself relax as they walked through the corridor into the living room: this man also had a very large collection of books, neatly organised by genre on dust-free shelves. Bookcases lined the walls on three sides, the fourth set with windows and a small desk that was also adorned with a few volumes lying on the faux-wooden surface. The furniture and carpets were cheap and old, but everything was clean and well cared for.

Gowther gestured for his guests to sit. "What can I do for you?" he intoned and Escanor noted his voice sounded a little flat, devoid of emotion. This was odd for someone who worked in such a people-oriented profession, but perhaps the difficulty of his job had taken its toll. It was well known that social workers had felt the pinch of the recent funding cuts, and their workloads were bordering on the impossible.

"Sorry to disturb you," Gilthunder said apologetically. "You know the victim probably better than anyone else who lives round here. Can you tell us, did he say anything about his family?"

"No," Gowther replied after a little pause. "I did ask him some questions about his family when I was first assigned to him, but Dale always refused to answer. He was a private man."

As Gowther spoke, Merlin circled the room, peering closely at the bookshelves and occasionally prodding some of the volumes. The books' owner followed her with his eyes, the rest of his body unnervingly still. Escanor could see that the man was watching the detective's every move, even if he made no comment on her activities. Gowther's gaze remained fixed on Merlin even when Gilthunder asked, "Hmm. And did the victim's family contact him at all?"

"Yes," Gowther replied simply.

Gilthunder waited as the silence continued. Howzer shifted in his seat, clearing his throat in a official-sounding way as Gowther kept watching Merlin like a hawk. "And… would you like to tell us about this contact?" said the inspector sharply. "This is a murder investigation."

Gowther blinked, cocking his head to one side. "His daughter sent Dale money in the post. I advised him that this was the least secure way of carrying out financial transactions."

"Do you know how much she was sending?" Gilthunder asked as he leaned forward sightly. Sergeant Howzer had extracted a notebook from his pocket, the nib of his pen poised over the page.

"Five hundred pounds each month," replied Gowther.

Howzer sat back hard in his chair, nearly dropping his pen. "How much?" he spluttered. It was a lot of money, enough for the daughter to be a person of interest, Escanor considered. When he had worked for the Foreign Office on a very generous salary, that had been a quarter of his take home pay.

"Guila lives in Swindon," Inspector Gilthunder murmured. "Howzer, could you please get in touch with the local police there. We need to bring her in for questioning."

"Not too hasty, sergeant." Merlin ceased her examination of the room, walking towards them as both police officers rose from their seats. "I have some questions I would like to put to the witness."

Gilthunder sighed, Escanor realising that he did this a lot. "If you must," he said crossly.

Merlin smirked at him, and Escanor swallowed hard. It was almost as if she had winked in his direction. The idea was so novel his thoughts went into spiral, and he almost missed it when she declared, "You were permitted entry to the victim's house."

Gowther shot her a quizzical look so Merlin continued, "The tread of your shoes in the carpet here is identical to marks I saw in the victim's property. Not conclusive, but I dare say my deduction will be supported by an examination of the physical evidence."

Inclining his head slightly, Gowther intoned, "Yes, I did persuade Dale to let me enter his home. I wanted to see if I could organise the contents. I soon gave that up. I tried to help him with the books he had, but he was reluctant to let me touch his possessions."

"Nonetheless he did adopt your system of categorisation," Merlin said as she gestured round the room. "I could see the books were part way through a reorganisation," she explained as Gilthunder opened his mouth. "Some were organised alphabetically by author regardless of subject, while others were placed according to type, as they are in this room."

Merlin took another step towards Gowther, standing over him as he sat still in his chair. "You also volunteer I believe," she said. Escanor saw Howzer scratch his head, the sergeant evidently sharing his confusion at this abrupt change of topic. "You have a number of leaflets from an animal shelter organised on your shelves, along with several volumes on pet care. You have no pets yourself, that is clear from the absence of hair on your furniture, though you do have quite a collection of strands on your shirt, in a variety of colours. They come from four different animals, in my estimation. The inference is that you look after pets that are not your own."

"Merlin, what is this about?" Gilthunder asked, exasperated.

Merlin turned, her face shining with triumph. "It is a detail of the utmost importance, inspector," she scolded as she crossed her arms over her chest. "It is after all how this gentleman here secured the supply of ketamine he used to drug the victim. I looked through that man's dwelling space," Merlin said darkly as she whipped back towards Gowther, who merely stared back at her with unblinking eyes. "There were no drugs to be found; no trace of white powder, or the vials the ketamine is distributed in when in the form of a clear anesthetic. I suspect you used this to spike the victim's drinks."

At these words, Gilthunder and Howzer both stood to attention, their shoulders tense. The sergeant moved towards the door, using his form to block the exit. Escanor also made to stand, then thought better of it, relaxing back into his chair. "The victim was a hoarder. He would not have thrown even evidence of illegal drug taking away," Merlin continued, oblivious to the police officers' movements. "The obvious deduction is that he was not taking the substance deliberately. And if that is the case there is only one person who could have given him the drug: the social worker who had access to his home and who works in animal care, where ketamine is commonly used."

"But why?" Escanor gasped, amazed. "I don't understand. Why would he do that?"

"Elementary, my dear Escanor." Merlin's mouth curved in a smile as their gazes met. "He wanted the book he stole from the victim's property. This one, I believe," murmured the detective as she strode towards a bookcase to retrieve a slim volume. "This is a first edition of 'Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone'. You will find that its market value is around fifty thousand pounds."

Escanor did rise at this point, stepping gingerly over to inspect the book with the children's cartoon of a boy in glasses adorning the front. "The author is Joanne Rowling!" he declared as Merlin held out the book for him to inspect. "She didn't use her initials. That's how you know it's a first edition, she only did that with the first printed book."

"Exactly." Merlin's smile grew wider. "And can you tell how I knew it belonged to the victim?"

"There was a gap on Dale's bookshelf," Escanor said slowly. "I noticed it! Some of the books had fallen over. I'm trying to think what else was on it…"

"Children's literature," Merlin replied. That's how I knew where in this room to focus on. This book has been wiped clean of dust on the outside covers, but you will see a few specks adhere to the edges of the paper. A forensic analysis will confirm its connection to the victim. This is the benefit of hoarding," Merlin said sternly as Gilthunder moved towards Gowther, pulling the unresisting man to his feet. "Plenty of trace physical evidence to show what came from where.

"And, if you had been paying attention to the interior of the room, inspector," added the detective, "you would have noticed the pattern of marks in the carpet. The killer did not enter via the window. That much was obvious from the way the shards that were scattered around had not been trampled or crushed underfoot. No one had stepped on them, so the window was broken _after _the victim was killed. You said yourself no ordinary thief would have targeted that property, only someone aware there was something worth stealing inside. And who is the only person who had access to the house? You knew what this book was the moment you saw it," Merlin said darkly, Gowther looking back at her, unperturbed. "But rather than relay the good news to the man whose fortunes had fallen so low, you determined to take it for yourself. You drugged him in an effort to take it without his notice. But Dale cared about his possessions. Even in a disorientated state he tried to stop you. That was when you struck him with the statue."

Gilthunder read the social worker his rights before handcuffing Gowther and ushering him from the flat. Howzer gave Merlin a nod as the detective handed over the book that had led to a man's untimely death. "The things people kill for," the sergeant sighed as he looked at the bright-coloured cover, before stepping towards the door. "Do you two need a lift?" he asked belatedly as he reached the exit.

"No thank you, sergeant. We'll take the scenic route home." Merlin gave the police officer a curt nod as he disappeared, before turning to Escanor, the grin sliding from her face. "And now that's over," she grumbled, her mouth twisting into a pout. "I wish they would give me a case that takes more than two minutes to solve."

"But that was incredible!" Escanor exclaimed, and he felt a glow as Merlin shot him a pleased look. "The way you figured things out!"

"You see things too." Merlin raised an eyebrow as she regarded Escanor carefully. "But you do not make deductions. You need to exercise your critical faculties. You also need to see a therapist to help manage your anxiety," she said more sternly. Escanor opened his mouth to protest but she interrupted him with an upheld hand. "I will take no opposition. If you are to help me with my cases then I cannot be worried for your safety."

Escanor stood stock still as Merlin started to stride towards the door. "B-but… you want… me? To help?"

"Of course." Merlin said loftily. "If we ever get another case again. Why does the world have to be so uneventful? If only there was someone out there, someone who could really test my abilities." Escanor chuckled as Merlin continued to mutter about the iniquities of the world, the two heading from the estate and so back towards Baker Street.

"The operation has succeeded, sir." The low voice rang with the pleasure of victory and the listener smiled, enjoying the sound. He always did like it when his agents were happy. "The target is dead and the mark arrested. I have done due diligence. None of the activity can be traced back to you."

"Very good," he replied. He stood quickly, moving around his desk to clasp his operative on the shoulder. "I've come to expect no less than the best from you."

He saw the other pause, and asked quickly, "There's something you want to tell me?"

"Yes," his employee gratefully responded. "In the course of managing the aftermath, I became aware that the police engaged the services of a consulting detective, a woman whose powers of deduction could prove… unhelpful to us if they were by some misfortune pointed in our direction. She is the reason the police solved the crime so quickly. I did not have to feed them information."

"Alright." He smiled, feeling a frisson of excitement. "Perhaps it's time our organisation enjoyed a bit of competition. See to it that she's kept an eye on would you?"

"Of course, sir, I was about to suggest such a course of action myself. I will assign our best agent to the case, at once."

He nodded at his companion, a grin pulling his features. "Good! Let's hope she gives us some fun. Now, let's get dinner. I'm starving!" He led the way from his study, his operative waiting respectfully behind him, until they could walk side by side down the corridor.


	4. The Noble Bachelor

A/N: As the title suggests, this case is inspired by Conan Doyle's "The Noble Bachelor" as well as the BBC's Sherlock.

As ever, thanks to Bertazsleepyhead and lickitysplit for keeping me going, and also thanks to everyone who is reading this (:

* * *

"W-what?"

Escanor rubbed his eyes as the pounding on the door became more insistent. "Come on, Escanor!" Merlin's low voice called. "Get up. You do not want to keep our guest waiting."

Shaking his head, Escanor forced himself to move, sitting up gingerly on the bed and casting a look at the clock on the bedside table. It was five thirty am. He stared, unbelieving, at the digital display, then closed his eyes for five seconds and took another look. It was now five thirty-one. In the morning. What could anyone possibly want at this ungodly hour?

Pulling on clothes as quickly as he could, Escanor yawned profusely, trying to shake his head clear of sleep. Pale sunlight was streaming into the room through the thin, yellow curtains; it was enough to see by but he switched on the electric light anyway - anything to sweep the cobwebs of tiredness from his brain. Once dressed, he stumbled from the room, running his hand along the wall as he made his way down the corridor to Merlin's consulting room.

The smell of fresh coffee was as invigorating as it was welcome. Escanor took grateful breaths of it as he gathered his senses, flinching a little as his eyes fell on their visitors. The two men in front of him could not have been less alike. One was enormous, his barrel of a chest puffed out with indignation, his sour expression causing Escanor to shrink back. That monolith of a man stood behind another who sat tentatively on the edge of one of the chairs. This individual was small, slight and watery-eyed, his mouth drooping down pathetically at the corners.

"Is _this _the reason you have kept us waiting?" the larger man demanded, his bush of a moustache quivering dramatically as he glowered directly into Escanor's face. "This shrimp hardly seems worth it. Conclusion: this is a waste of my time…"

Merlin held up a hand, clearing her throat imperiously. "Escanor is my business partner. He assists me with all of my cases. If you have a problem with his presence then I suggest that you leave."

The man snarled, then flung himself down on a chair next to the smaller of their two visitors. "Very well, I have been informed by Scotland Yard that you, contrary to all appearances, are the best I can hope to enlist to help with my situation. Conclusion: I have no choice but to engage your services, even if this man looks as if he would faint." Escanor did indeed feel a little light-headed, and sank gratefully down on the sofa as Merlin shot him a look. Unobtrusively, he removed his notebook from his pocket and started to make a few brief observations.

"So, what is it that I can do for you, Lord Alioni?" Escanor was surprised to see Merlin addressing the younger individual, who looked up with a start, his eyes darting around the room.

"Um… well, um… how do you know who I am?" the young man asked weakly.

"It really is too simple to require explanation," Merlin said with a sigh. "Escanor, perhaps you would like to do the honours. Let us see how much of my tuition you have been able to absorb."

Escanor looked hard at the subject, starting on the shirt cuffs, the boots and then line of the jaw. The clothing was expensive, and fitted perfectly, the young man's jacket lined with embroidered silk. But he frowned a little on seeing a few fraying patches, a few spots where the fabric had been torn and left unrepaired. A closer examination of the boots told the same story; the leather was high quality but worn, the sole of the right boot a little loose at the toe. Evidently a once-wealthy family who had fallen on hard times, but that description could apply to any number of Britain's dwindling aristocracy.

"Well," Escanor began, his voice sounding painfully unsure. "What I mean to say is, you're wearing a signet ring," he added a little more diffidently and Alioni cast a quick look down at his hand. "It bears the image of a lion, if my eyes don't deceive me, it is a little hard to make out from this distance. If it is a lion, that is a symbol accorded to only the most noble families of our country, which means you are in possession of a title. But I'm not sure how Merlin managed to figure out the rest of your name…"

"His picture is in all the papers," Merlin snapped impatiently. "As I told you, it is important to stay abreast of current affairs. The Lord Alioni, eldest son of the Duke of Argyll, is to marry Elizabeth Liones, youngest daughter of one of England's wealthiest families. The wedding is due to take place today, if I am not very much mistaken. Which begs the question, why are you here? I presume it is because the young lady has gone missing?"

"I... don't know if she's missing, exactly," Alioni began. "Sir Twigo thinks she's…"

"She is not in her bedchambers, nor the rest of her father's estate and she has certainly not been given permission to leave. Conclusion: she has been kidnapped." The large man folded his arms across his chest. "And you must retrieve her, ideally before two o'clock this afternoon. Otherwise there will be a scandal."

Merlin leaned forward in her seat, and Escanor noticed her fingers twitch slightly, as they did when she felt she had uncovered some important fact. He had seen her solve six cases now, and she had displayed this tick on each occasion. "Forgive me for asking, Sir Twigo," she enquired, "but why are you here? Lord Alioni I can understand, if his bride has gone missing, but what is your interest exactly?"

"It was I who brokered the match," Twigo said proudly, before his shoulders dropped, as did his moustache. "I am an old friend of his young master's parents, and considered it my place to make sure his young Lordship married well. The lady's father took a little persuasion, but he finally understood the benefits that being aligned to a family is of such pedigree would have for the young lady's prospects. That is if she is found in time," he said curtly, and Escanor thought he could actually hear the man grind his teeth.

"But if this is a kidnap surely the police will be throwing everything they have at the case," Escanor said slowly, his brow furrowing. "The Liones family would certainly be a feasible target. So why…"

"It is obvious." Merlin did not even look at him, her gaze fixed firmly on Twigo. "They do not believe, any more than I do, that Elizabeth has been taken against her will. And neither do our clients in prospective." Sir Twigo spluttered angrily at this, but Merlin cut through the bluster. "Lord Alioni, I would like to hear what you believe has happened to your fiancée?"

The young man covered his face with his hands and Escanor felt a rush of pity. "S-she… she's seemed happy enough this last week or so, and she was enthusiastic about the wedding, planning things and such. But… oh, I don't know! After yesterday, I don't think she really wanted to…"

"That is enough!" Sir Twigo hissed. "Of course Elizabeth was looking forward to the wedding."

Merlin once more held up her hand. "What happened yesterday?" she asked, her voice cold.

"It was nothing!" Twigo yelled as he stood up from his chair. "The very notion of impropriety is totally preposterous."

"What happened?" Merlin remained in her seat, refusing to acknowledge the interruption, her eyes fixed on Alioni. "It must have been something that upset the young lady."

"I-it really was nothing," Alioni stuttered, his adam's apple bobbing along the line of his throat. "We were to spend the night at Elizabeth's home, and as we arrived quite a few people were there to meet us. Elizabeth has… these admirers. Women mostly who follow her on social media," he said quickly as Twigo gave a loud harrumph. "She's very popular. They were mostly harmless, just wanted to give her flowers and gifts, and that sort of thing. Only one of them went for her, pulled at her dress and knocked her over. Elizabeth was really upset, and who could blame her."

"Why?"

Merlin's eyes narrowed as the young man stammered out, "W-What?"

"Why did that person attack your fiancée?" Escanor surprised himself on hearing his voice, his heart rate quickening until Merlin shot him an approving look. Escanor swallowed and breathed deeply as she gave him a thin smile. "Was the attacker known to you at all?" he asked more diffidently, clearing his throat and making a show of consulting his notebook.

"Yes… but, I can explain!" Alioni turned pale as Twigo made a funny noise in the back of his throat. "I… I had to report her to the police. She's insane! Her name's Deldry and she seems to think we're in some sort of relationship but I've honestly never even spoken to her!"

Merlin cleared her throat. "Lord Alioni, it would be much better for you if you confessed the whole truth…"

"This _is _the truth," the young man insisted. "We just swapped a few messages on Twitter, and then she went crazy, started telling me she loved me and that we should... I told Elizabeth," Alioni said desperately, looking round at Merlin and then Escanor for support. When none came, he continued, "I explained. I showed her the messages. They're completely innocent on my part." More sure of himself now, the young man turned to look Twigo in the eyes, his gaze steady. "I thought… I was sure Elizabeth believed me! She seemed a bit distracted but nothing more."

"Deldry is her name, you say?" Merlin said thoughtfully as she rose gracefully to her feet. She took the smartphone Alioni offered, quickly swiping the screen as her brow furrowed. "There are rather a lot of texts, but as you say nothing which should cause a bride in prospective too much concern. I see they stop abruptly after your conversant changed the tone of the discussion."

Alioni's shoulders slumped in relief as the detective turned to Escanor. "It would be prudent I think to interview this person. Perhaps she said or heard something of relevance. Can you track her down? Her Twitter username is, apparently, LoveDrive."

Merlin arched an eyebrow as Escanor nodded. Getting up clumsily from the sofa and using a hand to steady himself, he just caught himself from tripping over the edge of the rug at his feet. "My partner, it turns out, is rather good with the Internet," Merlin pronounced, the clear touch of sarcasm making his mouth run dry. "He runs a blog about _me _, so I am reliably informed."

"I told you, if you want me to stop…"

"Go and find Deldry." Merlin's command rang in his ears as he made his way quickly from the room, just catching her final remarks as she dismissed their guests before the door to the consulting room closed behind him. He blinked rapidly as he switched on his laptop, the sight of the post he had spent hours crafting and not managed to pluck up the courage to publish making his face flush with heat. "The Engineer's Thumb" read the title, followed by an account of how Merlin had uncovered a drugs distribution network, all from an examination of one of the gang member's digits. With a sigh, Escanor's mouse hovered over 'delete' until finally he clicked the save button, then opened up Google to commence his task.

_This is all your fault, you should have asked her first, _he berated himself as he scrolled through pages and pages of Twitter and Facebook until he found the woman he was looking for. Once last name, school and work details had been discovered, it was not too difficult to find Deldry's address. He took several deep breaths, calming his nerves. _Your therapist told you, do not place so much stock in what Merlin thinks of you. Her happiness is not tied up with your own. _

Still, it was with considerable relief that he beheld Merlin's smile as he relayed his findings, and he could feel the thumping in his chest begin to subside. The therapy really was helping considerably. The attacks still occurred, and much more regularly than he would have wished, but he now recognised some of the negative thoughts that could precede them. _If she had scowled you'd have struggled _, he acknowledged to himself as his heart rate started to slow and he breathed in and out.

"Excellent," Merlin declared, rubbing her hands together and Escanor wondered if she knew just how much of an effect she had on him. "We will try her workplace first, and what an unexpected address for a would-be stalker. Ah well, on we go. The game's afoot!"

* * *

Merlin raised an eyebrow as she got out of the cab, stepping carefully to the side to avoid stepping into a dirty puddle. Escanor screwed up his nose. London was arguably the pinnacle of Great Britain's culture, but that did not stop its streets smelling strongly of urine. Especially ones at the back of the theatres found in the city's West End, the ones the tradespeople used while the audience made use of the entrances at the front.

None of the grime seemed to trouble Merlin, however. She glanced around, her eyes darting over the scene, no doubt cataloguing all the important clues on display. He tried to emulate her approach, as he had been taught, but all he noticed was that the white paint on the walls was peeling, that a pair of pigeons appeared to have made a nest in a small hole in the brickwork and that the lock to the door did not look the least bit secure. This last hypothesis Merlin tested; a few sharp jabs on the handle and the door swung outwards, showing a dark corridor lined with framed posters beyond.

"Come on," Merlin said briskly and Escanor set off behind her at a trot. As they moved, the sound of their feet muffled by the soft, red carpet, Escanor began to hear voices drifting towards them on the air:

_"He had it coming_  
_He had it coming_  
_He only had himself to blame."_

"What is that?" Escanor asked, scrunching up his face as he shuddered.

"Whatever it is, the singers are barely in tune," Merlin complained. "It'll be some musical or other. They sound like they're screeching. But, the noise does suggest we're approaching the stage. Merlin paused, and Escanor had to stop quickly to prevent himself from banging into her. "Follow my lead, and give me your notebook." She held out her hand and, reluctantly, Escanor placed the requested item into her palm.

"I-I'm sorry. If you want me to stop writing…"

Merlin turned to face him, her lips curved at the corners. "I don't necessarily. I have to admit, it has been useful for attracting some more interesting business. I suppose I am a little surprised, and perhaps that annoys me."

"I don't want to…"

"Let me finish!" Merlin chasisted, cutting off Escanor with an upheld hand. "As I mentioned before, it is clear you have written all your life with an old fashioned fountain pen. The middle finger of your right hand has a pronounced callus, and is stained blue, or it was until recently. If you were going to document our cases, I should have expected you to write them down. Why you have chosen to blog them escapes me. And yes, I may be petty but I find that frustrating."

Escanor could not help his smile. "It's… um… you're right It's not what I would normally do. My therapist suggested I give it a try. She said it might help me process things. I do find it a little… uncomfortable, putting stuff on the Internet, but I also want everyone to know about your work. I've been back and forth about whether it's the right thing to do, and I didn't even…"

"Then keep at it." Merlin flashed him a warm smile. "And I will now show you why I wanted your notebook. I hope you can remember what next occurs. I wouldn't want to disappoint your readers."

With that Merlin strode into the auditorium, Escanor following close on her heels. He stared at the stage, then quickly averted his eyes, swallowing hard. The platform was crowded with barely-dressed girls, all of them wearing sheer tights and black leotards.

"Who are you?" a long-haired man called from the seats. "I didn't give anyone permission to watch this rehearsal. Which of you girls do these interlopers belong to?"

"I am so sorry, I must be early for my appointment," Merlin said suavely as she made a show of consulting Escanor's notebook. "I am here for an interview with your star, Deldry, for the West End News. We're a small publication perhaps, but we have a good circulation in this part of London."

Escanor watched as one of the signers gasped, visibly bouncing on the balls of her feet. He recognised her from his internet research: lime green hair pulled back into a very tight ponytail and a smirk of a face. "I… really? You're a journalist? Here to see me?"

"I take it that your agent did not consult you," Merlin said sadly. "I am so sorry. Perhaps the mix up is with my colleagues. I will leave you in peace, and make arrangements to reschedule."

"Oh no, don't do that!" Deldry exclaimed. "It's alright isn't it, Slader. You don't mind if I…"

"Yeah, yeah, knock yourself out. You'll not concentrate now, that's for sure. Everybody take five!" he called reluctantly.

Deldry jumped off the stage, running towards them. "I'll show you to the dressing room," she said proudly, stepping lightly back into the corridor as she practically skipped ahead of them. "I'm so happy to be talking to you. Thanks for visiting," she added excitedly, her gaze switching back and forth between Escanor and the detective. "It must be so fulfilling to work for the press. You must get to meet all the stars. Have you interviewed anyone really famous?" Escanor felt his skin grow hot, and tugged his collar away from his neck with a thumb. He did not like deceiving anyone, and particularly not young ladies.

It was with not a little relief on his part when they reached the dressing room, the door closing with a soft click behind them. Deldry threw herself down onto a faded green sofa, a beatific smile pulling at her features. Then her eyes swung to Merlin and her face fell to see the woman glaring at her before passing the notebook back to its owner.

"I am afraid we have asked you here on false pretenses," Merlin said coldly, her face thunder. "I have been engaged by the Lord Alioni to locate his missing bride. You, I am told, had a scuffle with the lady in question yesterday afternoon, and shortly afterward she was nowhere to be found. So, perhaps you would care to explain what it was that you said to make Elizabeth Liones leave the safety of her own home."


	5. The Perils Of Love

A/N: Sorry this update is a little late. I started a new job last week and totally forgot I was publishing this. There'll be another chapter on Thursday so the schedule is back on track. Thanks for your patience.

As ever thanks to lickitysplit for beta reading.

* * *

Deldry's face was a picture of distress. "I-I didn't! I mean, I… Elizabeth's missing?"

Merlin let out an audible snort. "You purport to be unaware that a woman you accosted, in front of witnesses, has subsequently vanished from her family home?"

"Well… yes!" Deldry's eyes darted from Merlin to Escanor, then apparently not finding what she sought there, her gaze swung back to the detective. "I did have words with her, yeah. She just has no clue how he cares for me. I thought it my duty to put her in her place." Deldry's voice grew more sure, more refined as she talked and Escanor had a sudden epiphany. The young woman was not from a well-off background, the accent she adopted was carefully studied.

"And what is your connection to Lord Alioni, precisely," Merlin asked as her hands went to her hips.

"We're in love," Deldry said with a dramatic sigh. "I know he has to marry that woman, otherwise there's no way he can afford to get by, but he loves _me _," she said forcefully as she sat up straight on the sofa, her legs crossed primly at the ankles. "He _does _love me. He has to pretend otherwise in public, of course. That's why we can't be seen together. I try to understand, and normally I can manage, but yesterday the thought of that woman sharing his name and his bed… well it was just too much to bear. I'm afraid I rather lost my head."

Merlin looked at her sternly. "So what happened?"

Deldry sucked in a breath, then rested her hands in her lap. "I was… I did go too far," she practically whispered as she exhaled. I just wanted to see her in person, to see if she was, well, more attractive than me. As well as having loads of money. When I saw her, I… She looks like a damn angel," she said angrily as her hands balled into fists in her lap. "I wanted to slap her across her pretty little face, maybe give her an ugly mark for the wedding. I was thinking about it, just as a fantasy, deciding exactly how I'd do it and imagining how good it would feel… then I found myself lunging for her."

Deldry closed her eyes, her voice breaking. "I swear, I was relieved when the man behind me pulled me back. He was rough too, but I didn't care. I think my hand did make contact, but it was not a hard hit at all. He stopped me from doing any real harm. And it was a relief. I didn't really want to hurt her, I just… I don't know." Deldry placed her hands over her face, wiping away tears with her palms.

"What is your real relationship with Lord Alioni," Escanor asked, once more surprising himself. "This doesn't make any sense. He said you were just someone he met online."

Large, moistened eyes rimmed red with emotion, locked on his own. "He said he loved me," Deldry said softly as a tear fell down her cheek. "We did meet online, but he came to see one of my shows and we got talking. I thought he cared for me. Then he told me he was getting married, just for the money, he said. He said we could carry on as we'd done before, his fiancée need never know. But then he grew distant, stopped coming to see me, stopped writing even. It's been very hard." She rested her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed in earnest.

"I saw you had a pile of letters in the drawer of your dressing table," Merlin said thoughtfully. "It is slightly open," she explained as Escanor shot her an incredulous look. "I suspect the joints need seeing to so that it will close properly. You read these before each performance," she said casually as she moved to the mirror above the tatty looking desk, yanking the drawer open and retrieving a packet of letters.

Deldry looked up at her sharply, opening her mouth as if to protest, then shook her head and slumped back into the sofa. "You might as well see them," she said resignedly, burying her face once more as Merlin quickly read through the pile.

"His Lordship has some explaining to do," Merlin muttered to Escanor as she passed him the letters. "This would perfectly explain why his bride has abandoned her plans to wed him, though not perhaps the manner of her disappearance. She was at her father's house. The simpler thing to do would have been to send his Lordship packing." The papers rustled as Escanor gave them a perusal, blushing profusely at some of the language which bordered on pornographic material.

"You say a man pulled you back?" Merlin asked sharply, her eyes snapping once more to the crying suspect. "I was under the impression from Lord Alioni that it was a group of women who had gathered to talk to Elizabeth."

Deldry nodded. "It was mostly girls, yeah. But there was this one bloke. I noticed him before she arrived, he looked… I can't describe it. He looked like he'd eaten something too big to swallow. His face was like thunder when I went for her though. I tried to talk to him, to explain, but he pushed past me. He was strong too even though he was really small."

"Did he do anything else?" Merlin asked.

"Yeah, he gave Elizabeth a bunch of flowers, nice ones with red roses. She was white as a sheet, but she took them then went to say hi to the others. I saw my love's face and… I thought I'd better make myself scarce. He was clearly not at all pleased to see me."

The sobbing resumed as Merlin's face settled into a thoughtful expression, her nose crinkling a little as she frowned. "Tell me more about this man's appearance. It is important," the detective snapped as Deldry started making wailing noises, her foot tapping impatiently on the carpet.

"He was small. Smaller than me," Deldry managed to stutter, "with blonde hair. That's all I can remember."

"I think we had best go to inspect the last place Elizabeth was known to be, prior to her unexpected disappearance," declared Merlin as a light entered her eyes. "I advise you, Miss Deldry, not to contact his Lordship, nor to leave this city without informing the police. I believe what you have told us," Merlin said, rolling her eyes as the woman gasped. "But until Elizabeth is found you will inevitably be under suspicion."

Escanor tried to mutter some words of comfort, hating to see any woman cry, but Merlin caught him by the elbow to guide him from the room. "I take it you examined Elizabeth's social media accounts?" she enquired under her breath as they made their way at speed back through the darkened corridors of the theatre to the street.

With a nod, Escanor pulled out his notebook as Merlin led them round the corner to the main thoroughfare, hailing a taxi as it crawled past. "Liones Estate," she said preemptively as the driver shot her a gap-toothed grin before putting his foot to the pedal. "Any sign of anything interesting in the young lady's life, before the Lord Alioni?" asked Merlin as the car wove through the traffic.

"Nothing really, but it is a bit strange," Escanor said slowly, scratching his head. "Elizabeth's life is an open book. Every place she goes, every outfit she wears, even what she eats is all plastered over Instagram. It must be awful," he said with a shudder. "But there is this odd gap, covering I think several months, almost like she went off the grid."

"Ah ha! We make progress!" Merlin rubbed her hands together.

"Y-you have an idea?" Escanor stuttered. "But… I don't see it at all…"

Merlin shot him a narrow-eyed glance. "My dear Escanor, why would a young lady who lives so much in the public eye feel it necessary to hide her activities from the world? Surely there are only a few possibilities, and only one that fits with such a law-abiding character. I am aware from the press coverage that Elizabeth Liones is seen as something of a paragon. Even the Daily Mail could find no bad word to say about her."

Escanor sank back into the leather seat of the car, trying to puzzle out Merlin's meaning. "It could be an eating disorder," he said eventually, swallowing hard. "When she came back, she did look… ill. I suppose she might have gone for treatment."

"Let me see her photos." Without a word, Escanor whipped out his phone, finding the relevant page and passing it to his companion. He watched in silence as Merlin peered at the screen, her eyes darting back and forth over the sea of pictures.

"An eating disorder would fit the pattern, were it not for Elizabeth's appearance in these photos. Look," Merlin commanded as she held the phone out in front of them, swiping through pictures in quick succession, showing images of Elizabeth before and after her time off Instagram. "There is no sign of the puffiness around the cheeks that accompanies bulimia, and her weight is a little lower after her time out of the spotlight, but by no more than a pound or two. She looks ill because she is caked in makeup, no doubt to hide a pale complexion, and her smile is fake."

"You're right. She looks unhappy." Escanor bit his lip. He was not a young woman, but he too had felt the pain he could now see plainly in Elizabeth's eyes.

He remembered sitting in front of a computer screen, reading through comments on a paper he had drafted, that he had spent hours and hours on, staying late into the night to carefully craft each sentence, making it as punchy and persuasive as possible. He had followed his manager's advice to the letter about what it should say and how it should be structured, and had sent it off proud in the knowledge that it was a genuinely good product. His boss had sent it back to him, the red lines of track changes snaked all over the page, many of the barely civil remarks in the margin directly contradicting her previous advice. He had known then, where he had before only suspected, that she was not trying to help him improve, she was deliberately trying to make him feel miserable. And there was no way he could make it stop. He shut his eyes tight as his throat closed up and he felt his heart start to race in his chest.

The detective's hand on his shoulder barely registered, her voice sounding like it was coming from far away. He wanted to say something, _anything, _but he could not remember the words or make his tongue work. "Don't worry. It's a panic attack," Merlin said softly. "It will pass. Remember the exercises your therapist gave you." Escanor tried to listen as she talked him through how to breathe, Merlin opening the car window to let in fresh air.

How long it lasted, he had no idea, but eventually his pulse began to slow a little. "It was a mild one," Merlin said with interest as Escanor gasped, realising with disgust that he was drenched in sweat. "I estimate the worst of this will be gone in another twenty minutes or so, though it will be longer until you are more yourself. Nothing you can do until the adrenaline goes, just keep breathing the way you've been taught. I'm here for you."

He closed his eyes, breathing steadily as the car sped out of the suburbs and into the greenery of the English countryside. _She's here for me _he thought as Merlin's hand tightened on his shoulder. It did not stop the attack, but it did help him hang on as the weight lifted slowly from his shoulders and his limbs stopped shaking and his heart rate gradually calmed.

He could hardly remember as they pulled up near Liones Estate, Merlin seeing to the necessaries of paying the driver, Escanor feeling guilt trickle through his stomach. This was a job he normally performed, anything to make himself more useful. Merlin said nothing as they walked up to the house, their arms linked together as he leaned against her. His muscles trembled, his legs protesting as the detective led him to an old tree stump, helping him to perch on the dry wood.

The cool air blew against his face, ruffling his hair, and he took grateful gulps of it. "Not too much," Merlin cautioned, and he managed to nod, taking shallower pants in before steadily blowing out.

"I know you are feeling guilty and disappointed but I want you to remember how much progress you have made." Merlin stood beside him as he focused on the grass that sprung up in tufts beside the thick tree trunk, feeling unwanted tears gathering behind his eyes. "This is the first attack of this severity for several weeks. It is a set back only. Not a derailment."

Escanor still could not speak, and though he did not agree he did not feel like arguing, so he merely nodded as Merlin helped him to his feet. He still felt weak, but moving came easier as they made their way through the grassy field and so to the driveway up to the house, now walking side by side as their feet scrunched on the gravel path. To Escanor's surprise, an old man pelted out of the house as they approached, his long jacket streaming out behind him.

"Have you found her?" he called desperately, his voice high. "Have you found Elizabeth?"

Merlin shook her head as she strode up to the man. "I take it you are Baltra Liones and that Lord Alioni has informed you of our involvement in trying to locate your daughter. I have not, but I believe we will manage it. I do advise you, however, to call off the wedding," she said preemptively as Baltra stuttered.

Escanor felt a stab of pity as the man visibly slumped. "It is for the best," Merlin said coldly. "Now, if you will show me into your house I will continue my investigation. Even though there will be no ceremony this afternoon there is no time to lose."

She swept past Baltra, whose face was as ashen grey as his hair, Escanor giving him an apologetic bow before scurrying after the detective as fast as he could. He had managed to catch up with her by the time Merlin reached the door, and he followed as she moved into the large, opulent atrium. The entrance was grand, all marble floor tiles and rich red carpets that ran up the polished wood of the large double staircase. He expected Merlin to ascend to the upper floor to explore Elizabeth's room, but she turned sharply, sniffing the air as she strode with purpose through the corridors.

"The kitchen will be this way," she barked as they moved. Then she suddenly stopped, glancing backwards and Escanor jolted to see what appeared to be guilt on her face. "You need to take it more slowly," Merlin said as she looked him critically up and down. "I apologise." She shook her head, warning off Escanor's stuttered reply, waiting for him to draw up to her side and setting off once more at a much more leisurely pace.

"I thought so!" Merlin cried triumphantly as, some moments later, she pushed open a door to reveal a large country kitchen. Light poured through the large double-glazed windows, catching the copper pots which hung from hooks on the walls and the flecks of glittering stone in the pink granite countertops, or at least what was showing of them. Almost every inch of the surface was covered in vases of flowers, and Escanor's eyes widened to see the cacophony of soft, coloured petals as he inhaled the sweet perfume in the air.

He was not surprised to see Merlin make her way to a vase full of roses, yellow, orange and red glowing like flame in the soft summer light. Carefully, the detective pulled the flowers from their vessel, water dripping down from a tissue wrapped around the stems. Escanor watched as she carefully peeled the sodden material away, her movements gentle so as not to disturb the weakened fibres, her face tautening around the jaw line as it disintegrated a little in her hands.

"That is suboptimal," she muttered under her breath as she stared down at the torn fabric, her mouth riding up at one corner. "This is evidently the bouquet handed to Elizabeth by the mysterious gentleman," explained the detective ruefully as Escanor moved tentatively to stand next to her so that he too could examine the artefact. It was thicker than he had expected, the yellowed fibres streaked with a vibrant green that cascaded down into a messy blob from what looked to be a pointed triangle in the top right hand corner.

"This must have been a logo or graphic," Merlin muttered to herself as her fingers drummed on the countertop. "The green is distinctive. Perhaps that will be enough to track down the origin of this gift. I could use the Baker Street irregulars I suppose, but it would take too much time…"

"Um… Merlin?" Escanor felt his heart race once more as his body suddenly seized, his eyes going wide as he fumbled for his phone. "I-I think I have an idea. I think I've seen this before," he stuttered excitedly, punching in his passcode so that his phone screen sprung into life. "Look," he said as he held out the device, his hand trembling slightly. "Elizabeth went to this place just before she took her break from social media. It's a bar called The Boar Hat, it's really new, just set up at the beginning of the year. Does that…"

"This is it!" Without ceremony Merlin grabbed the phone and held it next to the disintegrated tissue, her eyes flitting from one object to the other. "There are at least four points of discernible comparison between this mess and the bar logo, even with the lamentable state of this napkin," she said, her voice rising in inflection. "This point here is the top of the hat and the mass of green underneath has a swirl at the end, close enough in appearance to this large sow's tail. Well done, Escanor!" Shaking his head, Escanor cleared his throat, taking careful breaths as his chest swelled with pride.

"Where is this establishment?" Merlin pressed.

Escanor quickly checked his phone. "North east London, on Dalston's high street."

"Good thing I got the taxi to wait." Merlin was striding to the door with fast steps. "Come on, we have a missing woman to find. The game's afoot!" she called over her shoulder as Escanor once more scurried to keep up with her.


	6. Lovers Reunite

The smell hit him as soon as he got out of the cab, the stench of decay making him want to gag. The surroundings confirmed his worst suspicions: empty bottles, half-eaten carcasses of fried chicken, the odd flaccid chip, brightly coloured cans and plastic bags, all strewn out over the pavement. It appeared many of the shops on Dalston High Street were closed, victims of a hard recession, their metal shutters pulled down to ward off thieves, but there were a few places that continued to trade, all of them pound shops or selling cheap food.

"Come on," Merlin said brightly, pointedly ignoring Escanor as he nearly stumbled, trying to avoid the mess at his feet. "The Boar Hat is this way." She strode ahead, then pulled up short allowing him to catch up with her at a bit of a trot. As they moved down the road, Escanor was relieved to see that the desolation evened out into something approaching civilisation; there were still a plethora of fast food outlets, but there were also quaint-looking restaurants and trendy drinking places. Evidently, this part of London was geared to sustain Britain's fondness for alcohol.

They stopped as they approached what appeared to be a surprisingly inviting watering hole to judge by what he could see through the diamond patterned windows. Despite being early afternoon, the place was packed with drinkers, some tucking in to loaded plates of food while others hunched over tables, glasses in hand. A metal engraving of a pig, painted malachite green, swung above in the wisps of breeze, a pointed wizard's hat perched on top of its head. Merlin flashed him a glance, then pulled open the door, the loud hum of conversation thrumming into the street before the pair slipped inside, closing the door behind them.

Escanor felt immediately at home, despite the sheer number of patrons in various states of intoxication. The place resembled an old-fashioned pub with wooden tables that dotted the space and cobbled stone floors that appeared to be immaculately clean. A woman with long, flowing dark hair wove through the tables, clutching at the surfaces every now and again to steady herself as she delivered drinks and plates piled high with food, her arrival at the tables greeted with enthusiastic cheers. His gaze moved to the bar which was stocked with bottles in every colour, shape and size and taps of beer adorned with different labels lined up along the counter. "Not bad," he murmured under his breath and Merlin chuckled at his side.

"Yo!" A man behind the bar waved to them as Merlin forced her way through the crowds. Escanor was surprised to see the man was more of a boy with a mop of blonde hair and eyes the same green as the pig outside. He looked far too young to be serving alcohol. "Please take a seat. We have table service here. What can I get you to drink?"

Escanor was on the point of saying they were there on business not pleasure when Merlin held up a hand. "Two pints of ale if you please, whatever you recommend." The man gave her an appreciative nod, and Merlin took Escanor by the elbow, manoeuvring him through the throng to one of the few empty tables.

"Why are we drinking?" Escanor hissed under his breath as he and Merlin slid into a pair of less than comfortable stools.

Merlin smirked, her eyes shining as she leaned over the table towards him. "We've solved the case," she muttered, so quietly Escanor could barely make out the words above the persistent buzz of background noise. "No point in rushing to the conclusion. Besides, I thought you looked like you could use a drink."

"But…"

Breaking off his reply, Escanor jumped as the young lady with the raven hair and what he could now see was a dazzling smile skipped towards them, her face falling as her feet caught on the stones. She toppled forwards, the tray in her hands wobbling dramatically, golden ale spilling to cascade all over him as she crashed to the floor. He gave a cry, trying to rise so that he could aid the crumpled girl, but his knees caught on the table and he too was knocked backwards, legs sprawled in the air as his stool tipped back and over.

The silence was deafening. Heat flamed in Escanor's face as he laid sprawled out on the floor surrounded by spilled ale and glimmering shards of broken glass. His shirt was wet, clinging to his skin. He closed his eyes, trying to make himself breathe normally as his heart raced and blood pounded in his ears. He had to get up, to make a joke out of what had happened, to laugh it off like a good sport so that everyone could chuckle and move on, but embarrassment froze him in place. He tried unsuccessfully to push himself up on an elbow, then felt someone helping him to his feet. Risking a look, he saw Merlin peering at him, features creased in concern and he wished with all his might that the earth would open and swallow him whole.

"They're fine~" a voice drawled. "Get back to your drinks. Next round's on us." A cheer went up, the patrons sinking back into their previous chatter. "Bring him to the kitchen, we can get him cleaned up there," the voice ordered more quietly.

"B-Ban, I'm so sorry." Escanor turned to see the waitress standing, head bowed and hands tugging at the hem of her tight, pink shirt. "I'll clean this up…"

"Nah, you come with me too, have a bit of a break. Mel'll sort this out," the man said kindly. Escanor took small sips of the air as Merlin once more helped him through the crowds, this time pulling him around the bar. The man who had spoken opened a door at the back, ushering the waitress through before stepping aside to permit Merlin and Escanor entrance.

As soon as they were inside, the girl was bowing before him. "I-I want to apologise," she pleaded, dark brown eyes wide. "I'm… um… I'm new and still learning. I've never been a waitress before."

"Quite," Merlin said, her arms folded over her chest. "It is not a profession someone from your background would need to familiarise themselves with, is it Miss Liones."

"W-what?" Escanor looked carefully at the woman. "But her hair! Her eyes!" he exclaimed. "Elizabeth…"

"Is as capable of using hair dye and coloured contact lenses as any of her sex." Merlin tutted as she shook her head. "Examine her features, Escanor. Note the point to her chin, the line of her jaw. This is definitely the woman we have been commissioned to locate."

"Now wait just a minute." Escanor looked up sharply to see the man called Ban looming over them, and he suddenly noticed just how sharp the man's canines were and that his eyes were a fierce crimson and he hoped sincerely this was also due to coloured contact lenses. "No one is taking Elizabeth anywhere," he muttered darkly as he almost casually punched a fist into the palm of his other hand. Escanor gulped, edging backwards towards the door but Merlin stood her ground, stepping forwards to press into Ban's personal space as Elizabeth squeaked out a protest.

Ban and Merlin looked to be on the point of blows, but a cheerful, "Yo!" broke the tension and Merlin relented, her shoulders dropping as she turned to face the new arrival. "Meliodas," Elizabeth cried as she ran towards him. "They know it's me. I didn't tell them, I promise. I…"

"Hey, it's alright Elizabeth. It was bound to come out at some point. I hoped we had a little more time but, well, we don't. It's well past one o'clock, they can't make you marry anyone today. It'll be fine."

"Let me be clear, sir, or should I use your proper title?" Merlin said loftily and Escanor bit his lip to see the barman's face darken, brows drawn to a scowl. "Well, let us leave it at Meliodas then if that is your preference. I have no desire to force this young woman to marry anyone against her will. I do however wish to reunite her with her father, who is extremely worried by her disappearance."

"H-he is?" Elizabeth asked, voice trembling.

Merlin rolled her eyes a little, and Escanor held his breath as his gaze darted from her to Elizabeth, and to the two other men, all of them listening to the detective as if spellbound. "Of course. He cares for you. And he wants you to be happy, even if it is not in quite the way he envisaged," Merlin said, a little warmth entering her tone. "I encourage you strongly, Miss Liones, to confess to your father. You should tell him you are already in love and cannot marry another."

Elizabeth sighed. "But he doesn't approve of Meliodas. He wants me to marry someone with a title. He said…"

"Whatever he said, I am willing to suppose that he will wish to support you, especially if he is acquainted with some crucial information about the man you have chosen. As for you," Merlin barked as she rounded on the bartender, "you would do well to put your pride aside and tell your girlfriend exactly who you are. It will make both your lives a lot easier."

"What's she talking about?" Ban cackled as he slapped Meliodas hard on the shoulder. "Tell him who you are, what rot. Listen lady," he said, his face pulled to a grin, "we're from the gutter, him and me. He's no-one."

Merlin crossed her arms over her chest in a familiar move, one which Escanor knew showed her disapproval. "So this gentleman here is the reason you have concealed your lineage," she said down her nose at the bartender. "Well, you know your own business best I suppose. But think upon what I have said to you. Your girlfriend should not have to live a life apart from her family because you are unwilling to tell the truth."

Merlin turned on her heels, her hair streaming out behind her as she strode from the room. On autopilot, Escanor muttered an apology before remembering himself, and the fact that his shirt was drenched in booze, and scurrying out of the door as fast as he could.

He caught up with Merlin out on the street. "Um… Merlin," he tentatively said, "w-who is he? That blonde man?"

Merlin stopped her pace, turning to face him. "Escanor," she exclaimed. "I forgot." Sticking out her arm, a black cab pulled up to the side. "221B Baker Street," she declared before bundling Escanor into the back seat. "Let's get you home and you can clean up. You've had a day."

"But what about the case?" Escanor asked.

"The case is solved. Elizabeth jilted the fiancé she did not care for to follow the man who had won her heart. The blonde we conversed with is the one Deldry describes to us earlier. Evidently Elizabeth tried to move on after her father expressed disapproval of her choice, but was unable to go ahead with the marriage he arranged. All that is left to me is to report to the Lord Alioni that he can forget all notion of wedding Elizabeth Liones."

Escanor chewed his lip as he ran his thumb over his moustache. "You asked me who the young man was," Merlin continued and he jumped slightly at the sudden intrusion on his thoughts. "I wonder if you could attempt a deduction. There was a sufficiency of clues about his person."

Escanor closed his eyes, picturing the man. "He was short, really short," recalled Eacanor, stuttering slightly under Merlin's scrutiny. "Blonde hair, green eyes, and h-he was privately educated," he said, pride rushing through him as Merlin nodded her head.

"You noticed the tie, I presume," she said approvingly. "Very good. The pattern used by Harrow School is very distinctive, though his friend Ban does not seem to have recognised it, perhaps unsurprisingly. He really has experienced an impoverished upbringing. I do wonder that Elizabeth also has not noticed, but most people are surprisingly unobservant."

Escanor nodded, swallowing before he continued, "He… um… what have I missed?" Furrowing his brow Escanor tried to picture the bartender. "He knows his job, he pulled the pints in the right way. And he cares for his bar, the way it looks suggests that. And um…" Escanor tried to zoom in on his mental image to examine the man more closely, but there were no clues in the short cuffs of his trousers, nor the pointed-toed boots or loose-fitting white linen shirt. The man had hands that were unused to hard labour, and…"

"He wears a ring." Eacanor looked at Merlin triumphantly, his heart pounding to she her smile of approval. "It looks old, it's not costume jewellery, so it's a signet ring of some sort?"

"Precisely." Merlin leaned back into her seat, her bright amber eyes focused directly on him. "Can you go further? Can you figure out his identity? Think about when the bar was set up."

"January." Escanor rubbed his eyes, trying to think. Merlin has set him this challenge and he would do his best not to fail her. If the bar was set up, it must mean that the man he was trying to identify had come into money around that time. He fished out his phone, glancing at Merlin to see if she objected and was relieved to see her lips quirk upwards. He pressed on, and in a few keystrokes the answer popped up on the screen before him.

"Baron Augustus Moran died on Christmas Day last year, and his title and estate were inherited by his eldest son. So the man we met is Meliodas Moran, the current Lord Leicester."

Merlin relaxed back into her seat. "Quite correct," she replied. "Meliodas Moran was estranged from his parent, but the late Baron's title and property were of course entailed. When his father died, he inherited a place in the House of Lords, as well as a large country house. It was enough to give him what he needed to start up the bar. Even though the bulk of his father's fortune was bequeathed to his younger brother, Meliodas is still a far better catch on paper than the Lord Alioni. Elizabeth's father will be very pleased, assuming his Lordship decides to share a few details about his background."

It was a few days later as Escanor was browsing through social media that he discovered how the case had come to its conclusion. Merlin had relayed their intelligence to the Lord Alioni, who had taken the news rather more stoically than expected, and they had heard nothing since. As the image scrolled up onto his phone, Escanor could not help but grin. "Merlin," he called as he ran out of the room, phone held aloft, "Have you seen Instagram?"

"I have." Escanor jumped as Merlin rounded the corner to appear right in front of him. "You have convinced me of the benefits of keeping an eye on social media. I was on my way to give you the news. This is a most satisfactory conclusion."

"You were right, Elizabeth's father must be happy, or she would never have posted this picture." Escanor held out the phone which showed a selfie of Elizabeth and Meliodas, faces pressed together, smiles lifting both of their faces. The lady was back to her normal self, hair shining silver and blue eyes bright with happiness. It looked as if they were destined to be together.

Merlin looked at him in surprise. "We are at cross purposes. I presumed you were referring to this." The detective held out her own phone which showed a Twitter dashboard and a photo of another couple holding hands.

"Is that… Lord Alioni?" Escanor looked at the screen, shaking his head to see Deldry beaming at his side.

"It appears we have resolved the problems of two young couples," Merlin said. "Now if we could only resolve our own. Why are there no cases?"

Escanor sucked in a quick breath. "Well, I could publish the details of this one. It's a high society case, it would be bound to catch some interest and… well… I know you're not crazy about the idea but…"

Merlin opened her mouth to respond but before any words could leave her lips a man came thundering up the stairs. "Sir!" a strangled voice called behind him. "Please! You can't just barge in unannounced! Stop!"

"It's alright Jericho." Merlin actually grinned at Escanor. "Come on up," she proclaimed, but her face fell as the man staggered onto the landing, Escanor gasped to see that he was barely clothed, just a ragged pair of trousers adorning his person. In fact, he looked wild, his head a mess of thick, matted black hair, his dark eyes bloodshot, the pupils blown.

"Escanor," said Merlin, her voice sharp, "get this gentleman onto the sofa and Jericho call an ambulance at once. He needs urgent medical attention. Right now!" she shouted, the sound of running feet following her instruction. Escanor also complied, but neatly buckled under the weight of the man who was hard and muscular. Without speaking, Merlin stepped forwards. wrapping the stranger's arm around her shoulders so that the two of them could carry him into the consulting room.


	7. The Soho Square Murder

This case is inspired by The Abergavenny Murder by Bert Coules. Seriously if you like Holmes I really would give his "The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" a go - they're radio plays and they're on audible. The Abergavenny Murder is the first story in volume 2 and it is totally inspired.

Thanks as ever to lickitysplit for beta reading - she really helped me a lot with this chapter. You are the best friend and colleague anyone could have.

* * *

The cuffs of his trousers were faded and frayed. Escanor sighed to himself; this was yet another sign of his failure that accompanied all the other ones that had been clattering through his thoughts like a runaway train. He rubbed his eyes, feeling a painful lump sting his throat, and he swallowed hard over and over again trying and trying not to cry.

"I'm sorry," he gulped as he reached for a tissue resting in a paper box on the table at his side. "I have to stop doing this."

There was a short silence, punctuated only by his laboured breathing. "Escanor," murmured the now-familiar voice, "you need to stop being so hard on yourself. It is normal to feel shock and sadness after what you have experienced."

"I should have done something!" Escanor scrunched the tissue up in his hands, pulling at the fibres. "I should have saved him."

He looked up into violet eyes, a kind smile framed by braided golden hair, the lady's delicate features partially obscured by the sunlight that streamed through the large window behind her. "I would like to explore that," she replied, as she wrote a few words in the notebook resting on her lap. "Can you tell me how you could have saved him?"

Escanor's head fell into his hands. "He was right in front of me," he stuttered. "He was _there _, on the sofa, and… and…"

"Escanor," said the woman as she leaned forward in her chair, "please tell me, what could you have done? You are not a doctor. An ambulance had been called, and while you waited for it to arrive you placed the man in the recovery position. You made sure his airways were free and when he suffered from cardiac arrest you administered CPR. What more…"

"I should have known what to _do _!" protested Escanor, his voice croaky and strained. "I saw his pupils were wide, and he was wearing no clothes, for goodness sake! He had a fever. I carried him! I touched his skin. I knew he had taken drugs! If I had not been so… so… useless I would have known he had taken ecstasy and was cooking from the inside out. I could have saved him."

"Before last week, were you aware that ecstasy can raise body temperature to dangerous levels?"

"No." Escanor sighed. "But they have chillout rooms in clubs for a reason. I should have put two and two together."

The woman before him put her notebook down on the table beside her, resting the pen neatly on the top. "Listen. What I am about to say to you is not orthodox, but then we are not in a usual position," she said. "Therapists are trained to help shape your thinking so that you can make your own conclusions. We are not supposed to present recommendations. But I must say, Escanor, I think your association with Merlin is giving you the impression that you need to be omnipotent, or something like a modern superhero. And you don't," said the woman with emphasis. "You are former civil servant with no medical training and you did as much as anyone could have expected in the situation. You place far too much responsibility on yourself when you say that you should have saved that man's life."

"Monspeet." Escanor looked directly at his therapist. "His name was Monspeet."

She nodded, her eyes closing briefly before she continued. "Yes, it is important to remember his name. And you need to remember that Monspeet died because he ingested an illegal drug, not because you didn't know how to treat him."

"He was shaking," Escanor whispered as he gasped for air and tears fell down his cheeks, the image that had been troubling him for days once more swimming before his eyes. "He was shaking so much the sofa rocked. His eyes… his eyes were white. He looked like a monster." Escanor gulped as he recalled clammy skin, a mass of dark hair, chest and arms muscles spasming, the man who had come to Baker Street to ask for help foaming at the mouth as he died. Overwhelmed, Escanor's larynx shut down, a few tears leaking from under his lashes into the torn rag of tissue.

The response came in a very soft voice. "It's okay, Escanor. It's normal to cry."

"But I'm crying all the time," he finally managed to stammer out between gasps for air. "It's pathetic. I _can't _keep doing this."

"And you won't," said his therapist soothingly. "You have experienced a traumatic event. It is perfectly normal to be upset by it and it will get easier in time. For now, all you can do is be patient with yourself and remember you have the right to be affected by this."

Nodding, Escanor took several deep breaths. He did not believe a word of what she had said, but he signaled his agreement all the same. He was tired of talking, tired of being so weak, tired of having no control of himself and the ever present need to cry. He was on the point of rising, determined to end his appointment early when his therapist said, "Why don't you tell me exactly what happened? All of it I mean, not just the death. Tell me about the case."

"What?" Escanor looked up, dashing the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. "I-I mean, Ms. Milverton…"

"I said you could call me Gelda," the woman replied with a smile. "You don't have to speak about it, of course - I understand if it's confidential - but I do believe it will help you. You'll recall I suggested blogging about your experiences with detective Merlin as a way of processing your emotions. You explained that you feel doing this would betray your partner, so you've not posted many of the articles you've drafted. I haven't pressed you but, while writing things down will help, it's really not giving you all you need. If you can't share the details with the world, why not tell me instead?"

Escanor cleared his throat. "It… um… it would be nice to talk about it but… well… it's a bit… distasteful in places."

Gelda laughed, the sound so inviting that Escanor found himself relaxing a little in spite of himself. "It can hardly be more disturbing than Criminal Minds, though I must confess I can't watch that anymore. It's far too gruesome," she added by way of explanation, scrunching up her nose. "There was one episode where a boy killed his younger brother by stuffing Lego down his throat and I had to switch off the television."

"Well… I told you about… the body," Escanor said with a gulp. He died before the ambulance arrived so Merlin called Inspector Gilthunder and he said he would sort everything out, but Merlin wanted to give him a head start…"

* * *

"Gilthunder will be here any moment. Let's see what we can tell him when he arrives." Escanor watched, frozen, as Merlin moved to the corpse, pulling latex gloves over her fingers. She picked up the man's hands, sniffing his nails, examining every inch of his skin before lifting open his eyelids, feeling his forehead, using a magnifying glass to investigate his clothing. "This gentleman has been sleeping rough," declared the detective as she fished her hand into the man's pockets. "Which would explain perhaps why he has no wallet or any form of identification."

A silence followed and Merlin shot a cold look at him over her shoulder as she crouched down by the sofa. "Are you not going to ask how I made that deduction?" she asked rather petulantly.

"I… I…" Escanor tried to meet her eyes, but his own fell to stare at the carpet, any words he might have uttered sticking in his throat.

"What's the matter, Escanor?" Merlin said more softly and she stood, taking a few steps towards him. "Oh!" she exclaimed as she looked back down at the body. "Don't worry, the police will take him away soon enough. You don't have to watch, you can wait with Jericho."

He could not process what Merlin was saying. Words came to him with a metallic ring, but his brain could not grasp them and they slipped through his mind like sand. He could not move, could not speak. He barely registered as Merlin switched her focus, moving to the cuffs of the man's trousers. "I deduce that he has been sleeping rough from the quantity and the nature of the dirt on his clothing. I expect a forensic analysis of the material will help to pinpoint the exact location, but my guess would be that he has been spending time somewhere near the West End."

Still, hard as it was to make sense of what he was seeing he flinched when Merlin extracted a pair of tweezers from a ziplock bag she kept in her own pocket, and she proceeded to extract a fragment of paper stuck with mud onto the man's trousers, nausea beginning to curdle in his stomach. "This is from the West End Gazette," she intoned. "I recognise the type face and this story. It was published two days ago about the decline of traditional Cantonese restaurants in Chinatown. The mud is also suggestive. There is only one area of green in the part of London where this paper is distributed and that is the little park at Soho Square Gardens. Judging by the distribution of the marks on his trousers, the gentleman had probably been sleeping there."

Merlin looked more closely at the man and Escanor felt heat flood his face as she pressed her head right into his chest. "But he cannot have been sleeping rough for long," she mused. "These trousers were tailor made, as you can see from the fit and the stitching, and look at the musculature. This individual has an extremely athletic physique that speaks of hard training and careful management of diet. I would deduce that he worked in the world of professional sport, or perhaps a personal trainer."

None of it made any sense to Escanor, whose mouth opened and closed, though no sound came out. Without turning to face him, Merlin continued her observations. "He has taken drugs of course, one only has to glance at his pupils to deduce that. My prediction would be MDNA; not one of the more dangerous drugs statistically speaking but like any illegal substance it can be harmful. It certainly causes heat stroke and seizures like the one we were unfortunate enough to witness. And while anyone can do anything in my experience, you are right in this instance. I believe this gentleman did not take the drug of his own free will. Look."

Feeling lightheaded, Escanor tried to obey the command. He stumbled forwards, gripping onto the arm of the sofa to steady himself then pulling his hand away as if it had been burned. He swallowed thickly as he looked where Merlin indicated.

"These red marks are the early signs of bruising," the detective said grimly. "The trauma that caused them was inflicted today. It is not certain of course, but it is probable that this gentleman was restrained a few hours ago, about the time he would have ingested the drug. Not conclusive but suggestive." Merlin looked up at Escanor, her face swimming before him. "Are you feeling alright?" she asked sharply as Escanor's head flopped back, Merlin only just managing to catch him before he fell to the floor.

* * *

"He was killed," Gelda murmured quietly.

Escanor nodded. "Merlin told me about it afterwards. The police came and took the body away for tests and they confirmed her conclusions. What we didn't know until the results came back the next day was that the ecstasy was really strong. The police also identified Monspeet. Well… sort of anyway. His fingerprints were on file."

"He had committed a crime previously?" Gelda asked.

"Assault," Escanor confirmed. "He was involved in a nasty brawl at a bar after his girlfriend was threatened. He was arrested on the night but then not charged, so the officers who dealt with him that day didn't realise he'd given them a false name."

"So how did you track him down?" Gelda asked as Escanor fell silent.

He cleared his throat. "I… I was actually the one who worked it out. I'm sure the police would have but… well, I know from the work I used to do at the Foreign Office people can choose something meaningful when they pick a false name. Monspeet told the police he was called Joe Galand so I looked that person up, just in case. Once I'd worked through several people I got a lead. It was clearly not the man we were looking for, but Monspeet was in photos with him. They were obviously friends."

"I see," Gelda said, leaning forward. "That was clever of you!"

"I don't know about that," Escanor muttered as he rubbed the back of his neck. "And I did faint," he spat, cheeks flushing a little with his embarrassment.

"And you recovered," Gelda asserted. "You recovered and helped."

"The inspector seemed to find it useful," Escanor reluctantly agreed. "One of the women who appeared in the photos was someone he recognised too, a woman called Derieri Hunter. She's a boxer," Escanor said diffidently, "and this year she got Sport England funding to train up for the Olympics so she has quite a bit of a presence online."

"I've heard of her!" Gelda exclaimed. "I think I read about her in The Standard. She looks pretty fierce if I'm thinking of the right person."

"That's what I thought," Escanor admitted.

* * *

The smack looked so painful Escanor winced. The boxers were wearing headgear but he could see the girl's helmet wobble with the force of the blow, and he shuddered as she shook her head savagely. Then, to his amazement, she was on the move again, her legs bouncing as she navigated the ring, dipping and dodging her opponent's jabs before delivering a sharp uppercut to the other's jaw. Her opponent fell, and Escanor looked away as she landed with a thunk on the floor, the victor yelling with triumph and punching the air.

"That was unacceptable," a male voice called and the boxer whipped round, pulling off her helmet to reveal a mess of short, blonde hair. "You left yourself vulnerable on eight occasions - occasions which your rivals will do a much better job of exploiting than this idiot here," he added dismissively, earning himself a "Hey!" from the girl who was beginning to pick herself up from the floor.

"Eight occasions my ass!" the woman yelled.

The man stepped forwards, his hands resting in fists on his hips. "What is wrong with you today?" he asked crossly.

"She's missing her _boyfriend _." Escanor could hear the smirk as the other woman also removed her headgear, long pink hair tumbling out like a waterfall.

"Shut up!" The woman who he recognised from his perusals online as Derieri rounded on her opponent, who giggled coquettishly, a hand covering her mouth.

The man stepped between them, towering over both girls. "That's enough both of you," he chastised. "Melascyla, I will talk to you later. Go and get changed. Derieri, you and I are going to work on your technique and if you let your personal life distract you once more today I will keep you here until sundown."

"If I may interrupt…" Gilthunder stepped forwards as the blonde snorted angrily, all three turning towards him as he made his way across the gym, his shoes clacking on the polished floor. Merlin's high-heeled boots clopped beside him, Escanor shuffling as his rubber soles squeaked as he traversed the space.

"Inspector Gilthunder, Metropolitan Police," he barked as he held out his ID. Merlin had moved forwards with him, Escanor following in their wake, and he could see Derieri's face turn pale, her dark eyes lined with shadow. His instinct was to focus on her, but remembering Merlin's lessons he also examined the other girl who seemed completely at ease, shoulders relaxed and head cocked to one side. The man who must be their coach however was another story. His eyes were narrowed, his jaw working visibly and Escanor sucked in a breath as the man's hand moved to grasp at the air by his side. He saw Merlin had also noticed the movement from the way her head waggled a little as if with excitement, and he was not surprised when she shot him a warning glance over her shoulder.

"The Metropolitan Police! To what do we owe the pleasure?" the tall man asked with a slightly strangled voice.

Gilthunder turned towards him, his lips pressed together. "And you are?" he asked.

Bowing slightly, the gentleman spread his hands out before him. "My name is Cusack, the cornerman for the England boxing squad."

Giltunder's chin inclined in a nod. "I would like to speak to Ms. Hunter, alone."

The girl turned towards him, her face haggard and her mouth falling open slightly "Is it bad news?" she whispered.

Gilthunder looked at her closely as he pulled out his notebook. "If you will come with me," he said softly, "I will…"

"I must protest, inspector," Cusack began, but stopped as Derieri took a wobbly step forwards, her movements jerky and robotic, so dissimilar to the grace she had shown in the ring.

"Is it about Monspeet?" she demanded sharply. "He's not been answering his calls. I filled up his voicemail. It's not like him at all." She blanched a bit more, so pale it looked as if she would faint. "Is he… tell me he's okay."

Hesitating, Gilthunder started to speak only to be cut off by a piercing wail. As if reading their thoughts, Derieri screamed, rushing towards Cusack and banging her fists into his chest. "I told you!" she yelled. "I told you he must be hurt! You wouldn't listen!"

"He's dead, I'm afraid," Merlin declared, earning herself a sharp look from the inspector, to which she shrugged her shoulders.

Escanor felt sick, helpless, closing his eyes to block out the face of the man this woman had cared for so deeply, feeling light-headed as he listened to her sob. Cusack pulled the woman into a tight embrace, holding her up as she crumpled in on herself, yelling her grief and anguish to the ceiling until her voice ran hoarse.

"Watch closely," Merlin whispered into his ear. "I believe everything we need is here." Escanor swallowed hard, his world spinning slightly as Derieri continued to sob.


	8. The Nightmare

Thanks once again to lickitysplit for your help with this.

* * *

"Escanor, what you are feeling is perfectly natural. You have had a very traumatic time of it."

Escanor took a deep breath then swallowed but otherwise gave no sign of having heard Gelda's words. He wished he had not paused in his narrative, that he had continued telling his therapist what had happened in the gym. As his words had come to a halt so had his confidence and Gelda had, of course, noticed the change in his demeanour. She had made this point that he had the right to feel upset a number of times, but he still could not accept it. He ought, he knew, to be better than this: stronger, more resilient, less _pathetic _.

Evidently sensing this, Gelda shifted slightly in her chair before saying, "We can go back to discussing the case in a moment. If you don't mind, I would like to explore a bit more how Monspeet's death has affected you. Can you tell me about your sleep at the moment?"

"It's… not good," Escanor admitted. Then to fill the following silence he blurted out, "I keep having nightmares."

Gelda nodded, her pen tracking notes across the paper in front of her. "Tell me what happens? Can you remember?"

He could remember very well. White eyes in a waxy face, matted dark hair spread out in a mess, foam bubbling from the man's mouth onto the fabric of the sofa. "I see Monspeet, dead," he managed to rasp out. "But then," he rushed on, as if a damn had burst, tears beginning to leak from his eyes, "he comes alive. Monspeet. He sits up and looks at me, his mouth all froth and his eyes… it's horrible." Escanor dabbed the tissue he was holding on his face. "I know he's telling me that it's my fault he died. I can't move or speak, I can't even apologise. I just look at him as he gets closer and closer to me until I wake up."

* * *

He sat up with a start, panting hard, his throat rough as sandpaper as tears fell down his face. "Just a dream," he murmured to himself, hands fisting the bedsheets. "It was just a dream." He rubbed angrily at his eyes, his heart beginning to pound as doubts trickling through his brain, the thoughts buzzing like persistent flies. What if there _was _someone there, on the sofa? What if it was all happening again? What if Merlin needed his help? What if she was in danger?

That last thought had him on his feet, and he staggered out of his room, pajamas drenched in sweat. Part of him knew it was stupid but he moved on as if under compulsion. He felt numb, his legs barely following his command but he managed to force himself down the corridor, determined to make it to Merlin's room. He needed to see her, to know she was safe, the desire so strong it powered his muscles as they threatened to seize. As he made it to the sitting room he leaned his hand on the door, trying to push himself onwards to Merlin's private quarters. But the door swung open under his weight, knocking him off balance and he crashed in a heap onto the carpet.

He was aware of hands moving over his shoulders and a voice that sounded miles away. Somehow he was helped to his feet, and he leaned heavily against a warm pillar of strength, tripping and falling onto the sofa, before recoiling in shock every inch of him quivering and bile splashing the back of his throat. He tried and failed to yell, to explain, to propel himself off the disgusting piece of furniture. But no words would come out no matter how hard he screamed.

"It's alright," the familiar voice soothed and he collapsed in gratitude as he was hauled back onto his feet. Merlin dragged him across to one of the chairs. "I should have anticipated that you would be thus affected," she said crossly to herself as she gently helped him to sit. "Remember your breathing," she said quietly as she pulled up a chair to sit next to him, her hand wandering into his. "Short in. Long out."

He stared at his lap and the hand resting there, fingers curled together as seconds turned to minutes to the best part of an hour. Her nails were perfect, pink and white ovals with a slight shine of polish; fingers thin, warm and smooth. "I'm sorry," he managed to rasp out, his voice sounding alien as it reverberated around his head. "I'm so, so sorry. I wish… I don't know why I get like this."

"If you are referring to the loss of movement and inability to speak, there is a perfectly reasonable explanation."

Escanor looked up at her in surprise. "T-there is?"

"Of course." Merlin smiled, her hand tightening around his as she leaned forwards. He could faintly smell the soap that she used, a light fragrance that reminded him of summer. "Your frontal lobe is affected when you have anxiety attacks. This is the part of the brain that controls problem solving, movement, speech, memory… the list goes on. It is a very important component of who you are. When it's not functioning as normal the range of associated symptoms can vary dramatically from person to person, and what you are experiencing is well within normal range."

Escanor shook his head slightly, then slumped in the chair. Merlin rose, her hand sliding from his and he sensed the loss immediately, swallowing thickly as heat flushed his cheeks. _I care about her. A lot. _Running a hand through his hair he tugged hard at the strands. _Stop it, Escanor, _he chastised himself. _She is so out of your league it's not even funny. _

"Here." Merlin snapped him out of his uncomfortable reverie and he gratefully took the water she held out towards him, careful to keep his eyes on the glass. "Sip slowly," she commanded and he obeyed, concentrating hard on the action to shut everything else out of his mind.

"We received the toxicology report from the police. Gilthunder had it couriered over," Merlin said as she once more took the seat beside him. "The results are highly suggestive."

Escanor managed to look her in the eyes as he asked, "Was it an overdose?"

"If you mean did Monspeet die because of the MDNA then the evidence is inconclusive," Merlin intoned with a sigh. "There is a considerable quantity of that drug, potentially enough to prove fatal, but there are traces of other substances as well, including 2,4-dinitrophenol."

"What's that?" asked Escanor.

Merlin cocked her head to one side. "I wonder if you have heard of it as DNP?"

Brow furrowed, Escanor murmured, "N-no, I don't think so?"

"It has a number of uses," Merlin declared, "including as a fertiliser and in the manufacture of explosives. More recently, however, it has been in vogue as a way of promoting weight loss."

"Oh!" Escanor sat up straight in his chair. "The diet pill! It's been in the news!"

"Exactly so," Merlin praised and Escanor felt the heat on the back of his neck. "It raises body temperature…"

"Just like ecstasy!" Escanor looked at Merlin in shock.

Merlin nodded as she leaned back, fingers steepling before her. "I believe the drug found in the victim's system was designed to kill." Escanor closed his eyes, resting his head on the back of the chair. "There is bruising on the victim's neck, as if someone held him down," she continued, "and he had bitten his own tongue as if trying to keep his mouth closed. It is not conclusive, but the evidence is consistent with the drug being forced on him…"

* * *

"Escanor?" The soft voice brought him back to himself, the memory of Merlin's smile fading. "What are you thinking about?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He wanted to tell Gelda everything, about Merlin's hand as if laid in his, about the sparkle in her eyes and the tilt to her smile. Then he remembered the sofa behind them, Monspeet's face as he convulsed and his face went crimson, his mouth running dry. "I-I was thinking about Monspeet. And then Derieri," he stuttered. It was not exactly a lie, but still Escanor went a little red in the face and his eyes darted from side to side.

"I see," Gelda said with a warm smile. "Your mind had wandered back to the case. Very well, let us follow it. I think it will help you. So, what happened after the inspector told Derieri the news?"

"She couldn't believe it," Escanor gulped, "but she's made of strong stuff…"

* * *

"Deri," the man murmured solicitously. "I think you should go and lie down. I can…"

"No!" The call was harsh, reverberating through the room. The girl pushed herself out of her coach's arms, twisting a little to stare the inspector in the face. Her eyes were red, but narrowed, the line of her jaw fixed. "I want to know what happened."

Inspector Gilthunder hesitated, his mouth hovering open before he muttered, "How long ago was it that you last saw Monspeet?" Escanor retrieved his notebook, taking covert glances at the man and woman who were Derieri's companions; the man was visibly tense, his shoulders pressed back, but the girl curled a long strand of pink hair around her finger, appearing more bored than anything else.

"Three days." Derieri took a step towards, her hands curling into fists at her sides. "Now you tell me. What. Happened?"

"He came to see me, and my associate," Merlin pronounced and Derieri spun round, the fierceness in her expression making Escanor flinch. "I am Merlin, a consulting detective. Unfortunately, the gentleman was not in a state to confide the purpose of his visit when he arrived and he expired before the ambulance could reach him. Have you any idea what he might have wanted to speak to me about?"

Derieri's mouth twisted, then her face softened. "He was bothered about something," she said in a hiss. "Not that he'd tell me anything, the ass. But he would not leave me the hell alone. He even came into the changing room with me after practice. It got on my tits and I told him so. He backed off after that. I… I didn't…" Derieri swallowed. "I just thought he was being a stupid ass. Then he vanished and I didn't know what to do."

"He was worried about you, Deri," Melascyla said softly. "You've been training too hard. You even fainted a couple of times!"

"You did not report his disappearance to the police." Gilthuder interjected quickly before Derieri could shout. His statement was one of fact; there had been no missing person's report filed for Monspeet.

"Of course not. He hates you! Hated," Derieri snarled. "You shits arrested him for nothing. I was the one who knocked the ass out in that bar, but your men wouldn't listen. Insisted a bloke must have done it. Sexist shits."

"W-well," Gilthunder stammered, and Escanor looked at him in surprise. He had not heard the inspector sound rattled before. "Be that as it may, what happened the last time you saw Monspeet?"

Derieri glowered. "What d'you think happened? We argued because he was being an ass! I didn't expect him to take it like that. We've argued before. He just said something about how he was going to have to stop whatever it was that was bothering him and then he swept out the door."

"I see," Merlin interjected before Gilthunder could speak. "And you have no notion as to what was troubling him?"

"If I may?" The man called Cusack stepped forwards, his long moustache swaying slightly with the movement. "I live near here in a flat on Greek Street. On my way home, I saw Monspeet hiding in Soho Gardens a couple of times. He appeared to be keeping an eye on people using the park. I didn't say anything to you because I thought you'd worry," he added sheepishly as Derieri rounded on him. "You have a lot of work to do to prepare for the Olympics. I didn't want this… lunatic spoiling your chances with his eccentric behaviour."

"You…"

Merlin held up a hand, arresting the girl's anger. "What?" snapped Derieri.

"Did Monspeet take recreational drugs?"

Escanor felt the tension in the air, noting the sideways glances between Cusack and Melascyla, who sidled up to the coach. "Monspeet? Drugs?" Derieri barked a harsh laugh. "He hates drugs. Always has done."

"For sure," Melascyla agreed, her sibilant voice soft but somehow making the hairs stand on the back of Escanor's neck. "He was famous for it. Though, you'll forgive me Deri, I did always wonder if his objection was a little… overdone?"

"I agree, he seemed to have the vehemence of a convert to me. I'm sorry, Derieri, but I thought it was peculiar." Cusack sighed, resting his fists on his hips. "I'll admit when I saw him in Soho Square Gardens my initial reaction was that the hypocrite had gone to score. There are plenty of dealers who use that place for transactions, as I am sure you are all too aware, inspector."

"And you said nothing?" Derieri hissed.

Cusack threw up his hands, giving his student an infuriated look. "It was absolutely none of my business. I have enough on my plate preparing you for the featherweight class. What your boyfriend gets up to is no business of mine…"

* * *

"Go on," Gelda said, her pen flying over the page of her notebook. "What happened next?"

"Not a lot," Escanor said. "We questioned the three of them some more, together and separately, but nothing jumped out. Gilthunder is pretty set on pursuing the drug angle, and Merlin is doing her own investigations. She's convinced that Cusack is involved."

"She is?" Gelda asked. "You surprise me. What gives her reason to think that?"

"Well, for one he seemed to know a bit too much about Monspeet's movements. Merlin and I went to do some reconnaissance at night and Soho Square Gardens is not well lit. Monspeet looked completely different when he came to our rooms compared to his photos. Merlin was sure Cusack couldn't have recognised him. So how exactly did he know Monspeet was there?"

Gelda nodded thoughtfully, jotting down some words in her notebook. "I see. Very careless of him really. Was there anything else that made Merlin suspicious? You said that was the first reason."

Escanor cleared his throat, his face flushing a little. "Well, ahem, she wouldn't tell me the second. Just said there was one. I've been trying to figure it out but… I still have a lot to learn. Merlin has convinced inspector Gilthunder though. He's requested a search warrant to search Cusack's gym."

"I'm sure you'll catch him then," Gelda said with a smile. "We can talk some more at our next session. The hour has passed," she said gently as Escanor started and began to pull his things together, stuffing the shredded tissue into his pocket.

"One thing I would say, Escanor," Gelda added as he got to his feet, "you are a lot calmer and more sure of yourself when you talk about your work. I don't know if you have noticed this yourself?" Escanor stared at her, his mind spooling back to his last panic attack, and how his breathing had evened out when Merlin had talked through the toxicology report. "It is something to think about, and I would like to discuss it next time." Escanor inclined his head as Gelda stood to show him out of the room.

He was on his way home when the news hit, an announcement crackling over the speaker system so ubiquitous on London's underground trains. "Ladies and gentlemen, I do apologise. Because of an incident, we will not be stopping at Westminster station. The police are advising everyone to avoid the area until further notice. The next stop will be Green Park."

As soon as he arrived at Baker Street and had navigated his way through the maze of tunnels and so up to the streets, Escanor fumbled for his phone, reading the headlines with disbelief. _Terrorist Attack At Westminster _. _Gunman Kills Two Police Officers. Killers Still On The Loose. More Details To Follow. _It was like a nightmare, and he hurried along the road as quickly as he could, his heart pounding as one thought turned over and over in his head. Get to Merlin and get to her fast.

As rushed into the apartment, he winced as shouts echoed down the stairs and he recognised Merlin's strident call. She must be furious to be yelling like that. As he made his way up the stairs, Escanor recognised Gilthunder's voice, also sounding angrier than he could ever recall. Mouth dry, he forced himself onwards to the consulting room, pulse ticking in his veins as he feet moved on and he pushed open the door, the voices growing in volume, as if that were possible, as he stepped into the space to see Merlin and the inspector glaring at each other.

"You cannot do this!" Merlin hissed. "Monspeet was _murdered _, Gilthunder. You know this. You can't just…"

"Look, what do you want me to do?" Gilthunder raised his hands, then let them fall with a smack to his sides. "In case you hadn't noticed, a group of imbeciles attacked the Houses of Parliament thirty minutes ago. They drove into a load of pedestrians on Westminster Bridge before shooting _my _colleagues. Every police officer in London has been called to the scene. And we have a _confession, _Merlin," he pressed on as the detective started to protest. "I told you. A well known dealer called Hendrickson admitted selling Monspeet the drugs that killed him. He gave us some pills from the same batch and they match the substances found in Monspeet's blood stream exactly. What more do you want from me?"

"I want you to do your job," Merlin yelled as she took a step forward. "You know this is bullshit! What was Monspeet doing sleeping rough in Soho Square Gardens? What about the pre-mortem injuries he sustained?"

"Hendrickson said he and Monspeet got into a fight over money and he might have roughed him up a bit." Gilthunder sighed. "Listen, this is not up for discussion. The case is closed and that is that. A dangerous drug dealer is off the streets and everyone is happy. Now if you'll excuse me, I have terrorists to catch." Without another word, Gilthunder barged past Escanor, shooting him a slightly apologetic look as he swept from the room.

"Damn it!" Merlin snarled, then flung herself into a chair. "This is so strange," she said more quietly as Escanor tentatively made his way towards her, and she wearily gestured at him to take the seat opposite. As he looked around he noticed that the sofa was gone. "I took the liberty of replacing it," Merlin said gruffly as she followed his movements. "The new one is arriving tomorrow."

Escanor nodded gratefully, staying quiet as Merlin pressed the tips of her fingers together.


	9. Turning The Corner

A/N: Thanks to bertazsleepyhead, lickitysplit and JacklynnFrost.

* * *

Merlin descended into a brooding sulk. A few cases came and went, temporarily lifting her from her black, snapping mood, but at their conclusion she always fell back into the familiar routine: she would rise in the morning then don her disguise as one of London's many down and outs before leaving Baker Street to stalk the streets of Soho, determined to stick hard on Cusack's trail. Ever since Monspeet's murder investigation had been stopped in its tracks by a combination of Hendrickson's timely confession and a brutal terrorist attack, the detective had been unstoppable, bordering on obsessed in her determination to catch Cusack doing something - _anything _\- that would mean she could bring him back into the police's line of sight.

But the coach - if he even was some nefarious villain - evidently gave the detective no satisfaction. Each day she would return, face even more sour than before.

And so time came and went. Hendrickson appeared in court to enter his guilty plea, before being carted straight off to prison, his expression one of stoic calm. Merlin tried to see him, but he refused, and would give police no firm details about his motivations for ending Monspeet's life other than to say that it was a dispute over ecstasy. The terrorists who had assaulted the Houses of Parliament turned out to be a single random fanatic, a man disgusted with the combative and chaotic state of politics in the UK. The man, who went by the pseudonym Ruin, had an angry Facebook profile and an even angrier Twitter feed and, according to police, had orchestrated the attack on Britain's most famous political institution all on his own without any help from outside agencies. Merlin rolled her eyes dramatically every time this information was pronounced in sombre tones on BBC News, muttering obscenities under her breath.

The atmosphere was like poison. Escanor did his best to tend to his partner, keeping her plied with tea and summaries of potential cases. He had started publishing accounts of their adventures, and these has generated a steady stream of enquiries. Escanor had taken on the role of secretary, sifting through the possibles to find ones of interest. A few times he had come across some interesting options, ones that had lifted Merlin back to her old self, and he allowed himself to hope that she would get back to normal. But each time, after she had pronounced her conclusions, his hopes were shattered into tiny shards, and he felt the old worry gnawing at the pit of his insides.

It was a massive relief when Derieri came to see them. Ruin, who has shot himself when cornered by police, had finally slipped from coma to death, taking his anger with him to the grave. A news piece aiming to reconstruct his background was just playing when Jericho ushered up their new visitor. Merlin rose instantly, her face almost wild but Escanor could not tear his gaze away from the boxer. She looked shrunken, shrivelled, as if she had collapsed into her skin, but her physical condition had done nothing to her spirit. As she took her seat on the sofa she barked, "What the heck did you want to see me for."

"Just because the police have given up, does not mean I have." Merlin sat opposite the young lady, her fingers steepled before her. "I know exactly how Monspeet died, and why. I have no proof but you ought to know."

Derieri was breathing hard, but did not interrupt as Merlin continued, "That friend of yours, Melascyla, mentioned you had fainted a couple of times when we interviewed you and Cusack at the gym. And I know why you have fainted. You have been taking a drug known as DNP."

"You ass!" Derieri yelled, as she shot to her feet. "I would never take… whatever that is, or anything else. I'm no sodding cheat!"

"You misunderstand me," Merlin said soothingly. "I did not mean to imply that you had taken anything deliberately. Cusack has been feeding you the drugs, though I am not sure via which medium. Your water bottle would be the simplest vehicle. Surely you must have wondered why your performance improved so rapidly? You have been profiled in the press as making remarkable improvements and now are a one of Britain's best hopes for the Olympics. I know you have been training hard, but your rise has been meteoric. Fairy tales like that do not happen in the world of professional sport."

Derieri sat down with a bump, her eyes closing briefly and Escanor had to suppress the urge to close his own as tears began to form at the corners. "I-I did think… is that what the thing you said does? It's a performance enhancer?"

"No. DNP is used for weight loss and it's a very, very dangerous drug. It's killed several people with eating disorders. No professional sports body would think to test for it, it's so lethal. Now tell me, was Cusack disappointed that you could not lose the last bit of weight you needed to drop to compete in the featherweight class, and did the fainting you experienced start around that time?" Escanor swallowed. He remembered that the coach had mentioned that this was the class Derieri was training for, he just had not realised the implications.

Derieri stared, her hands twisting in her lap. "How did you know?" she whispered.

"It's elementary," said Merlin, and Escanor was beyond pleased to see her mouth lift in a smile. "You are around one hundred and thirty-five pounds? Maybe a little more? Very good," Merlin said as Derieri gave a curt nod. "You need to lose ten pounds to compete as a featherweight. I presume Cusack felt that you stood a better chance in that class."

"It's just been added to the Olympics," Derieri confirmed. "He figured it would be an easier win. I'm a welterweight now, and the competition's fierce."

Merlin leaned forward in her chair. "Just so. And I will wager the other drugs you have been inadvertently taking also fall under the radar of the usual tests. It is likely that you are being used as a guinea pig. If you are able to succeed without detection then this programme of treatment will be rolled out to other athletes by the organisation that is testing them, for a no doubt considerable profit. It is my belief that the DNP was an improvised measure, one that was not sanctioned by Cusack's superiors and one which had no regard for your safety."

Merlin's voice was low as she added, "Monspeet died to try and protect you. He went undercover as a homeless person to catch your coach procuring the drug, but was caught in the act and silenced. Since then, Cusack has behaved impeccably, and I have no hope of finding any evidence against him, not when another has been jailed for Monspeet's death. He had gotten away with it."

"What should I do?" whispered Derieri.

"Run." The girl looked at Merlin in surprise, but the detective met her gaze without flinching. "Get out of the country, and stay there until you hear word from me. Keep a low profile and don't worry. I'll find you and let you know when it's safe. No do not make a fuss," the detective chastised as Derieri's mouth popped open. "Just run. Do not let Monspeet's sacrifice to protect you be in vain."

A sideways glance, eyes darting from Merlin to Escanor and back again, then the girl got to her feet. "Thank you," she whispered.

"I will catch his killer, I promise," said Merlin, her jaw line quivering a little as she spoke.

Derieri gave a nod and, with another murmured "Thanks," she hurried from the room, her feet clomping down the stairs. "And that's the best I can do," Merlin said bitterly as she stood, walking to the window. Escanor followed and together they watched as Derieri pelted quickly down the street until she was out of sight.

Swallowing hard, Escanor stammered, "Y-you said that Cusack acted without his superiors' approval. How do you know…"

"That he is not working alone? It's simple really," Merlin said with a sigh. "He hasn't the brains to pull something like this off. You need significant acumen and scientific training to design a performance enhancer that will not be detected by the thorough testing programme professional athletes participate in. You met him. Do you think the man we saw could manage it on his own?"

"W-well..." Escanor began.

"And he was careless." Merlin turned towards him, folding her arms across her chest. "It was remiss of him to mention that he was training Derieri for the featherweight fights, when she is evidently too heavy to compete in that class. Also, there is the fact that the drug dealer confessed - Hendrickson is obviously another member of this gang, the timing is just too suspicious. What I don't understand is how the gang found out we were on to them. I must have done something, given the game away somehow when I was gathering data. I've been over and over my movements and I cannot find a weakness in my approach and that is… extremely disappointing."

Escanor tentatively put a hand on Merlin's shoulder, his heart singing when she did not pull away. After a few moments, a knock sounded at the door and he reluctantly let his hand drop to his side. "You're here are you?" Jericho admonished Merlin as she brought in a tray. "I brought biscuits and sandwiches. Eat for goodness sake." Before Escanor could thank her, Jericho swept from the room, her ponytail swishing behind her.

"What do we know about Cusack?" he asked as he poured the tea, setting some sandwiches on a plate and handing them to the detective. Jericho was right she did need to eat.

Merlin flashed him a smile. "You _are _coming along. That is a very good question," she said, her words muffled as she swallowed her sandwich. "Cusack is a former athlete himself. Indeed, he represented Great Britain in fencing," she continued as Escanor raised his eyebrows, "but his career was not particularly noteworthy. He went on to teach physical education at Harrow School where it has to admitted he did rather well, though he is rumoured to have had particular favourites. Still, hardly a grave error, in the grand scheme of things. He will lead us to the gang, of that I am certain. Whoever is behind this… I want them locked up."

Escanor paused, biting his lip. Gelda had said he needed to be more assertive about his feelings with Merlin, that he needed to communicate his thoughts and concerns to her. That partnerships were a two-way relationship. Putting his tea down he cleared his throat and, stuttering only a little, said, "Merlin, I would like you to stop tracking Cusack. You are doing neither yourself nor the case any good focusing on him like this. You need to think of your health and the many, many other people who need your help. You won't catch the organisation, whoever they are, it you're too run down."

An unladylike snort followed his pronouncement, and Merlin grinned at him before her mouth dropped, her eyes lowering for an instant before snapping back to his. "I know and I'm sorry. I truly am, Escanor. And don't think I haven't noticed how hard you have tried to look out for me, and do not underestimate how much I appreciate it."

Merlin sighed, leaning back in her chair. "And you are right, I am getting precisely nowhere with this investigation. Gilthunder, for all his faults, has assured me that the Met will keep an eye on Cusack, or at least half an eye when they can spare one. That will just have to do for the present. It is time to move on to other cases. Speaking of which do we have anything interesting?"

Escanor fumbled for his notebook, relief flooding through him as Merlin bit into a biscuit, wiping the crumbs from around her mouth. "This tastes pretty good, for something Jericho made," she remarked as Escanor chuckled.

* * *

The next weeks were some of the most fruitful of Escanor's life. He and Merlin were commissioned by client after client, their popularity allowing them to be selective about the cases they took on. This was the time where Merlin caught The Giant Rat of Sumartra, a human trafficker who turned out to be an extremely nasty piece of work, and when she solved the mystery of The Speckled Band, apprehending the group of musicians who organised well-crafted jewel heists, they were showered with the gratitude of the wealthy gem owners. The money was welcome, and Merlin started to pay Escanor a salary, allowing him to breathe more easily over money.

Each morning, Escanor was glad to greet the rising sun, happy to spend time at Merlin's side helping her with these intricate investigations. The time he spent in Gelda's office grew less and less frequent, as did the anxiety attacks he now rarely experienced.

Busy as they were, however, he was always happy to see Inspector Gilthunder. London had returned to normal after the terrorist attack, its population swinging back into its predictable rhythm of work and play, the office and the pub, and the inspector had resumed his more mundane cases. So it was with some excitement that Escanor greeted the inspector as he strode through the door, Jericho knowing better than to bother with an announcement.

"I need your help," Gilthunder said without preamble, and Escanor admired the way he pointedly ignored Merlin's smirk.

"What is it this time?" the detective asked casually. "I hope you bring us something outré from your collection."

The police officer sighed. "Depends on your definition of outré, I suppose. I've got a situation at the Tate Modern," he explained, his foot tapping a steady beat on the rug. "A bunch of students have occupied the place in protest against some environmental scandal or other. So far, so irritating. But the fools have somehow stolen a Matisse worth millions of pounds and no one can tell me how they got it out of the building."

Merlin cocked her head to one side, her eyes lighting with her smile. "That sounds outré enough. What happened exactly?"

"No time to lose. We can talk on the way. Howzer is waiting for us in the car." Escanor fumbled quickly for his notebook, making quick strokes over the paper as the pair continued to speak as they clattered down the stairs, earning themselves a disgruntled call from Jericho, who barked at Escanor to make sure Merlin was back at Baker Street for dinner.

"The facts are these," Gilthunder continued as they exited onto the street. "At eleven o'clock this morning, four students from St Martin's College entered the Tate Modern. They acted totally normally until they got to galleries on the second floor, then they got out these banners - big ones - and started shouting and waving them around. They covered up CCTV cameras and obscured many paintings from view. The guards quickly got to them and took the banners away, but while the fuss was going on a picture was cut from its frame, a picture that now can't be found for love nor money."

"Interesting," Merlin murmured as they walked towards the waiting car, Escanor opening the door for Merlin who smiled up at him as she sunk into the leather seat. He hopped round to the other side to take his own place. "I take it you have evacuated the premises, and searched everyone as they departed?" she asked.

"Of course." Gilthunder sighed as Howzer exclaimed, "This one's a snorter," drawing an appreciative laugh from the consulting detective.

"I just don't understand it," the inspector declared. "We've searched the museum from top to bottom. It's really minimalist in design, there aren't many hiding places. And the picture can't have been gone for more than a minute or so before the disappearance was noticed. One of the students must have stashed it somewhere but they're saying precisely nothing."

Escanor asked tentatively into the contemplative silence, "Um… inspector… what were they protesting? The students I mean." He cast a glance at Merlin, flushing slightly to see her nod of approval.

"The painting that's disappeared, which is suspicious enough," the inspector growled. "It's a Matisse that's never been on public display before, sold recently to the gallery by the family of the late Lord Leicester."

Escanor's pencil caught on the paper at this, and he opened his mouth in surprise, only to bite down on his tongue as Merlin cast him a warning look. "What is objectionable about the painting, exactly?" she asked quickly as Escanor resumed his note taking.

"Its former owners, from what I can tell. Baron Augustus Moran had a number of business interests, including a major oil company. It seems the students blame him personally for the spill that devastated the English Channel some years ago. That, and they think his heirs should have donated the painting to the Tate Modern rather than sell it."

"Very well," Merlin barked. "What do we know about the students?" As Gilthunder rustled through his own notebook, Escanor glanced out of the window, taking a deep breath at the spectacle before him. As they drove over Westminster Bridge, traversing the river Thames as it sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight, Escanor gazed up at the Houses of Parliament, his eyes wandering to the London Eye on the opposite shore. If you looked past the dirt and grime, the city really was beautiful.

"Their leader calls himself King," said Gilthunder acerbically. "He's a little shit in my humble opinion, all talk of social justice and how the state is regressive. Typical left wing nonsense. The others are called Helbram, Elaine and Gloxinia and from what I've seen, they're just as bad."

There was a chuckle and everyone looked towards Howzer whose eyes remained focused on the roads. "Funny a left wing leader's called King," he said with a laugh. "Pretty ironic."

"There's nothing funny about it." A pause followed Gilthunder's rebuke then Howzer said cheerfully, "Oh come on boss, don't tell me you did nothing stupid like that when you were that age."

"I most certainly did not," Gilthunder said firmly, "and I bet neither of our guests did either. What were you up to in your early twenties, Merlin?"

Merlin leaned back in her seat, hands folded in her lap. "Chemical experiments," she replied. "I was trying to improve the method for extracting DNA so that even trace samples could be subject to tests."

"You see!" Gilthunder exclaimed in triumph as Howzer gave a low whistle. "That was useful. That is what people ought to be doing, not storming art galleries and making a fuss."

"And what did you get up to Escanor?" Howzer asked casually. "I was mostly drunk, when I wasn't working."

"Well… I… um..." Escanor stammered.

"Escanor worked for the Foreign Office, his background must be impeccable," Merlin declared, and even Gilthunder snickered as Howzer guffawed. "And here we are," said the detective happily. Escanor looked out of her side of her window at the huge brown brick monolith of a building. He had passed the Tate Modern museum several times when walking along the South Bank of the river, but never ventured within. He did appreciate modern art with its clean lines and bold colours, yet for some reason had never prioritised a visit. Just one more of the things on a long list he had not yet done in a city that was too big to navigate on foot.

"Come on Escanor, the game's afoot!" Merlin practically shot out of the car, striding towards the art gallery, her suit jacket swishing behind her in the slight breeze. Tourists scattered before her, some pointing fingers and whispering to each other excitedly. Escanor flushed, realising that they must have recognised Merlin's image from the photos of the detective he had published on his blog. Gilthunder flashed him an exasperated look, grinding his teeth a little as the two of them followed in the detective's wake.


	10. Work Of Art

A/N: This case was inspired by the BBC's Sherlock and an episode of the sleuth comedy-drama Jonathan Creek which is a really fun watch (especially the first two series).

* * *

The gallery was huge. Escanor looked around the cavernous space, the tread of his footsteps echoing through the air. "You're back, inspector!" a tight voice called and a small, roly poly of a man ran up to them at a waddle. "Have you found it? Have you found the Matisse… Oh!" the man exclaimed as his eyes fell on Merlin. "It's you! I mean, you're here! What a relief!"

Merlin glanced at Escanor, her teeth showing in her smile as she took the man's hand. Her back stiffened at his enthusiastic shake, but otherwise the detective gave no other sign of her discomfort. "I read about how you caught the Speckled Band! And the Hound of the Baskevilles! My, oh my, such a thrilling account. Thank you inspector! I feel so much better knowing you've brought us the best. I know you'll find our portrait for us, Miss Merlin."

Gilthunder cleared his throat. "Merlin, meet Mr Marmas, the manager of this gallery. Mr Marmas, this is Merlin, a consulting detective I have commissioned to assist us with locating the painting, and her associate Escanor…"

"You're the Escanor?" The manager bounced on the balls of his feet, his round body practically quivering with excitement. "I am so honoured," he gushed as he shook Escanor's hand. Escanor smiled, trying hard not to wince from the almost vice-like pressure squeezing his fingers and the rather unpleasant feel of the man's clammy palm. For a moment he wished that, like Howzer, he was back in the car. "I have read all your posts, of course…"

"I take it you still have the students in your office?" Gilthunder interjected, his irritation showing a little.

Marmas reluctantly let go of Escanor's hand. "Yes, of course," he said, his voice laced with annoyance. "And I hope they can be moved on soon. They are at least behaving themselves, for the moment, but I have valuable works of art in there… And I want to reopen the gallery! It was bad enough you evicting all my patrons and searching them only to find nothing, but…"

"We will do our best to resolve this problem as soon as possible," Merlin said soothingly, earning herself another grateful handshake. It was only when Gilthunder loudly cleared his throat that Marmas released Merlin's hand before scuttling across the floor at a surprising rate.

"My office is this way," he panted, stopping as he glanced over his shoulder to see Merlin not following him.

"You'll forgive me, Mr Marmas," Merlin said, her hands stretched out before her. "I should like to see the scene of the crime first, and to review the video footage before I talk to the students."

With a quick turn, Marmas scurried in the opposite direction to the ticket barriers, eagerly waving them through. "Of course, of course," he said with a series of vigorous nods as he led them to a nearby lift, pressing the button for the second floor. "It happened so fast…" He looked at Merlin with pleading eyes. "I had no idea… I just got the message from the security guards that there was a bit of a ruckus and of course I rushed up here straight away. By the time I arrived the painting was gone. We only just got it too," he said with a little whine. "Cost us four million pounds. I mean it's insured if course but… it's such a beautiful piece. It's a real honour for us to be able to display it."

The frame where the painting in question had hung stuck out from the wall like a sore thumb: a silver surround, embossed with waves that washed alongside a thin strip of blue and pink dusted canvass that lined the edge. Merlin rubbed her hands together, then stepped up close to the wall, pulling out a magnifying glass to examine the area closely.

"This cut was made with a sharp, delicate blade," Merlin said softly as Escanor made notes. "It was done with a steady, I should say practiced, hand. There are no signs of the perpetrator stopping or changing the direction of the cut even slightly. Inspector, have there been any other robberies using this method?"

"No," said Gilthunder, his face grave. "Do you think this is the work of a professional then? That would explain why we could find no fingerprints on the frame."

"I'm not certain, but it is a distinct possibility. Were the students wearing gloves?" Merlin asked, her brows furrowing as Gilthunder shook his head. "You say that the painting was gone by the time you arrived," Merlin said to Marmas, who was hovering by her shoulder. "Can you estimate how long it took you to get here after security raised the alarm?"

"About ten minutes. I was on a lower floor," said the manager glumly.

Merlin inclined her head as Gilthunder stepped forwards. "I have the video footage of the incident here," he said proudly. "New kit," he added to Escanor, his face alight with a grin. "The gallery keep their videos as digital files so we were able to upload them to our phones."

The group crowded round the inspector, peering at the screen which showed surprising clear footage of four young people walking sedately through the gallery, examining the paintings with the odd gesture and remark to one other. They looked precisely like all of the other visitors milling through the room, until they approached the Matisse. The boy walking in front, green patterned hoodie and short, light brown hair, checked his watch then held up his hand, the three behind responding to his command like clockwork. A male with scuffed trousers, a multicoloured jacket and long, stringy red hair pulled his large bag from his shoulders, extracting two banners with a slick fluidity before handing them to the boy and girl at his side.

The pair started waving the material around, the fabric floating like flags on the breeze between the camera and the painting beside them as the other visitors turned and stared at the commotion. Escanor tried to follow the scruffy, long-haired boy and their leader, but they both slipped out of sight behind the fluttering cloths. Some moments later, guards ran onto the scene, forcefully grabbing at the banners and as the fabric was lowered Escanor held his breath when the wall came back into view, showing the frame was now minus its painting.

"Interesting enough," Merlin proclaimed, her voice carrying a twinge of disappointment that made Escanor look at her sharply. "Quite an intriguing problem in its way, through a little more mundane than I might have hoped. The case is solved."

"S-solved?" Gilthunder stuttered as he stared at the detective. "But… how?"

"You saw what I saw, inspector. The clues are right in front of you."

Githunder folded his arms across his chest. "Then where is the painting?" he demanded crossly.

"I don't know." Merlin shrugged and the inspector let forth an exasperated gasp. "It's a minor detail we will no doubt resolve when I talk to the miscreants. Tell me, inspector, what do you intend to charge them with?"

Gilthunder had gone a touch red in the face and Escanor shrank back into his chequered shirt. "What do I intend to charge them with?" he repeated. "With theft, breach of the peace, vandalism and… and anything else I can think of."

"Will you be prepared to drop all the charges in exchange for the painting? I can assure you, the accusation of theft will not stick. You saw the video," Merlin said firmly as Gilthunder's mouth fell open. "The four individuals you have apprehended cannot have done it. They were not wearing gloves, and they were in full view of the camera the entire time. Even an incompetent defence lawyer would make very short work of such a charge. And the young people have caused no physical damage as a result of their activities. Breach of the peace? Yes, that could hold, but I will ask you Mr Marmas," Merlin said serenely as she turned to the gallery manager, "as the owner of this establishment, will you be happy to accept that the students be released with a warning in exchange for the painting which has been temporarily mislaid?"

"Of course, of course," the man said in a rush. "If the painting is returned then… I will impose a lifetime ban on the lot of them," he said sternly, "but the painting is what's important."

"In that case I will go and see the students. But I should like a few moments alone before I do. Gilthunder, Mr Marmas, if you would be so kind?"

The gallery manager puffed out his cheeks, but let his shoulders fall as Gilthunder sighed his agreement. "I know better than to try and reason with you," the inspector said. "But this better be good." His warning resonated from the gallery walls and Escanor jolted as Merlin chuckled.

"Inspector, when have I ever let you down?"

With another huff, Gilthunder stalked away, Marmas trotting behind, sneaking the odd look at Merlin and Escanor over his shoulder. Merlin watched until they were out of sight, then clapped her hands. "Come on, Escanor."

"Come on where?" He looked around to see Merlin striding through the gallery, making for the exit at the far end of the corridor. "Hey, wait for me," he called, running after the detective past all the other paintings that lined the walls.

He stumbled into the next room, only just catching himself before he tripped over his feet. The sight before him made his hold his breath: the pristine, white room was dominated by a large, metal machine out of which tumbled thousands of tiny pieces of bleached paper from a coned opening to spread over the pale, polished marble-tiled floor. A red funnel stuck out of the other end of the contraption, cutouts of little paper men stuffed into it, a few artistically arranged so that they hung over the edge. Without meaning to, Escanor rolled his eyes. Conceptual art of this nature was hardly to his taste.

"The symbolism is a little crude, perhaps," Merlin agreed with his unspoken thought, "but you have to admit the effect is a rather striking one." She moved around the display, examining the installation in minute detail. "This is most edifying," she said rather smugly.

"I-it is?" Escanor stared at her in astonishment. "I… I didn't expect… well…" he broke off as Merlin turned, meeting his gaze head on. "I didn't think this would be your sort of thing."

"On the contrary, I find this to be captivating. Now, let us go and interview the students," Merlin said briskly as she started to return back the way they had come. "I am sure they would like to leave the premises. It must be fairly dull sitting in that office."

Escanor took long strides to keep up with his companion. "You really think you can find the painting?" he asked.

Merlin chuckled as they clattered down the echoing staircase back into the museum foyer. "Watch and learn," she said, and Escanor jumped a little as she actually winked at him, before waking with purpose to the manager's office, twisting the handle and pulling on the door to expose the room within. It amazed him that Merlin had located the room so quickly, then he remembered that Marmas had been on his way to it before Merlin's request to see the gallery first had turned him about, and that it was a reasonable deduction that the room was in this part of the building.

Once inside Escanor's face worked as he tried to keep his unease off his features. It was a very, very cluttered space: every surface was covered with books and object d'art, the walls hung with several over-large paintings. In the middle sat four students, all slight and small, their heads huddled together.

"Good afternoon," Merlin declared brightly as Escanor scuttled further in, closing the door behind him.

"Who are you?" The one Escanor recognised as 'King' with the green patterned hoodie narrowed his eyes as Merlin smiled at him. "You're not with the police," he added, his tone dripping with hostility as he very deliberately looked Escanor up and down. "No police officer dresses that badly."

"King, that's not nice," the only female in the group scolded as the other two students tittered ostentatiously. "I'm really sorry," she said softly, her large eyes pleading as she gazed up at Escanor. She looked very young, too young to be at art college and he felt a little pang. This was a difficult world for young people to navigate, with contentious politics and a stuffy establishment that seemed to care not at all for the concerns of those aged under thirty. Perhaps it was natural that students such as these behaved a little aggressively.

His goodwill evaporated when one of the other boys snorted. "Don't suck up to him, Elaine. King's right, he's a no one." The young man who had spoken so rudely folded his skinny arms over his chest as Escanor looked at him. The young man resembled a cartoon character, with floppy hair dyed bright green, two fronds of which formed a cross between his eyes. He looked like a modern day Puck with his mischievous expression. The boy drawled, "That shirt he's got on is not just last season, it's not even from this decade."

"Helbram, please! Don't..." Elaine protested, but she was cut off by the red-head sitting beside her.

"Yeah, man," the rather dirty-looking boy said with a deliberate flick of his long hair. "It's, like, an embarrassment?"

"You're one to talk, Gloxinia," Helbram snapped. "When did you last wash that… do you call it a jacket?" Gloxinia opened his mouth as King chuckled and Elaine groaned and placed her head in her hands.

All four of them fell silent as Merlin held up her hand, and Escanor breathed a sigh of relief. "If you've quite finished with this juvenile banter, I have something to say to you which you will find to be in your interest. I have agreed with the manager of this gallery that he will not prosecute you for any offense as long as the painting is returned. I trust it was not damaged during the removal.

"I could give it to him myself," the detective continued, "but it would look better if one of you were to do so. It would seem much more like genuine repentance on your part. So, if you would kindly go and retrieve the Matisse from the shredding machine, that would be much appreciated."

Merlin surveyed the group, who had gone very pale. "I don't know what you're talking about," their leader said firmly.

"If you're suggesting one of us took the painting then you're barking mad," Helbram added sharply. "None of us went near it…"

"True enough," Merlin pronounced and the students all gaped at her, Gloxinia's mouth hanging open slightly. "Are you going to admit how you managed it? Or shall I explain?" she snapped.

"King…" Gloxinia began, his voice tight with panic.

King shot his friend a quick look, then pressed his lips together as he examined Merlin carefully. "This is a trick," he warned, his voice ringing through the room. "They know nothing. Do not say anything."

Merlin sighed, then glanced at Escanor, signalling him to start taking notes. "Very well," she huffed. "I must say, your plan was not without merit: create a distraction to cover the theft. But even the police would eventually have noticed that one of the other visitors - a small, young woman in a long dress, perfect for concealing a rolled up canvas - moved towards you just as the ruckus began, and then vanished into the next room where that peculiar shredding machine is installed just as your little protest came to its conclusion."

Escanor held his breath as he watched the students' faces. Elaine was biting her lip, the others breathing heavily. "As it was not found on her person when she left the museum," Merlin continued loftily, "I deduce that your accomplice hid it in that room, the machine itself being the only place where it could have been stowed. Now, would you like to go and retrieve the painting, or do I have to tell the police where it is and exactly how to locate the young lady in question?"

"King!" Gloxinia's panic took his voice up half an octave. "This has to stop. We can't…"

"Would you let me think?" King snapped, but his shoulders sagged as Elaine shot him a stern look.

"No, brother. We cannot get Gerheade in trouble. You said there would be no prosecution if the painting is returned?" she asked Merlin, swallowing in response to the detective's nod. "I'll… be back in a bit." Without glancing back at her companions, Elaine ran through the door, her shoes clattering on the polished floor.

"We weren't going to keep it," Helbram muttered, his hands clenched in his lap. "We just wanted time to show that… well, you know, it's absolutely disgusting!" he spat. "That painting ought to be public property and that Moran git made the gallery pay him four million pounds. Four million! His family's already minted. It's totally unfair. The arts already gets no funding as it is without wasting all this on something that belongs to everyone anyway! We just wanted the press to take notice of what was going on. We were going to give interviews, raise awareness, that's all. But the police wouldn't let any journalists in."

"I am aware of your intentions," Merlin proclaimed. "If you had intended to profit from your misadventure, I would not have persuaded the police to turn a blind eye. But if you are ever, ever, connected with another crime, no matter how trivial, I will see to it personally that you are pursued with the full force of the law. Is that understood?"

The students nodded. "It wasn't worth making a fuss about anyway," muttered Helbram. "The painting's not even real."

"What?" Escanor asked, his brow furrowed as he looked up from his notebook. "What do you mean?"

The other students were also looking at Helbram, their eyes wide. "Yeah, how do you know?" King enquired.

Merlin, head cocked to one side, held up her hand once more as Elaine burst into the room, a rolled up canvas under her arm. "Let me examine it," she commanded, taking the picture from a confused Elaine and moving towards the desk at the other end of the room, spreading the painting out on the flat surface. She removed a magnifying glass from her pocket, bending over almost double to inspect the Matisse.

"Very clever." Merlin straightened up, her eyes alive. "You did well to spot it," she said to Helbram, who grinned back. "Now, you will be a helpful young man, as will your friends, and you will refrain from mentioning this to anyone else. I assure you," she added firmly as Helbram started to protest, "this is an entirely necessary precaution. This is a bigger problem than any of you can imagine. For your own safety, you will need to keep your mouths closed."

King stood, eyes narrowed. "Alright," he agreed. "We owe you one, I guess."

"Very good." Merlin opened the door and leaned out. "Inspector!" she yelled. "The painting has been returned." At once Gilthunder appeared, Marmas running along just behind.

"The painting! It's here! Thank goodness," Marmas declared with an exaggerated sigh. "Such a masterpiece," he gloated as he trotted into his office, his gaze falling on the picture spread out on the desk. "I am relieved to see that it has not been damaged."

Escanor took careful steps to take a look at the painting over Marmas's shoulder: he did not know a great deal about modern art, but he had a passing familiarity with Matisse's work and the painting looked genuine enough. It was a colourful, stylised rendition of a woman, bare breasts covered by flowing dark hair. Her appearance was so like Merlin's Escanor shook his head before resuming his perusal. The artist's signature was there, the colours and brushstrokes looked right. There was nothing obvious to mark it out as a fake.

He was pulled from his thoughts as Marmas said crossly, "Now, can these… people please be escorted from my office? I never want to set eyes on them again." Gilthunder nodded, shepherding the students out of the room. Escanor knew he would take them to the station to make a record of their fingerprints and identities and to give them a formal caution, but would abide by his word and release the youngsters once due process had been completed.

Merlin stood stoically as Mr Marmas subjected her to another of his vigorous handshakes, Escanor too having to endure the ordeal before he and the detective were finally permitted to make their escape. Escanor took a grateful gulp of their air as they made their way from the gallery, the sun shining brightly on the surface of the Thames as he and Merlin walked west along the South Bank.

"The painting is forged?" he asked under his breath once they had slipped under Blackfriars Bridge and were surrounded by crowds of chattering tourists. He gave a sharp exhale as Merlin nodded sagely. "How could you tell?"

Merlin chuckled. "The same way that young man did: by looking at the woman's face in the portrait. I must say the audacity of the forger knows no bounds. Did you not spot the resemblance?"

"I… um…" Escanor blushed as he recalled the painting and the way she had reminded him so forcefully of the detective beside him. "No?" he said tentatively. "W-who was it?"

"Margaret Thatcher. A very young incarnation of our former prime minister, but it was her face just the same. A bit of a finger held up to the establishment,"

"Thatcher?" Escanor thought back once more to the painting, biting his lip as he recalled the slightly hooked nose and thin mouth.

Merlin inclined her head. "Do not feel too disappointed. Matisse did not give his women detailed features during the period the forger aimed to reproduce. It was only with some care that the similarities could be identified. That is why, I suspect, the fraud has not been detected. The question is whether the Moran family knew about the questionable provenance of their painting. I am rather looking forward to discovering the truth."

Merlin grinned at Escanor then set off once more, her long hair swaying behind her as she resumed her pace along the river back towards Westminster.


	11. The Sign Of Four

A/N: Fans of the Holmes canon will hopefully recognise references to The Valley Of Fear and The Gloria Scott along with BBC's Sherlock's A Study In Pink and some true crime. The reason for the chapter title will hopefully become clear by the end, as will the identity of the killer.

* * *

In the months following the Matisse case, Merlin had spun around London like a whirlwind doing what Escanor knew not. But this time she had, amidst all of the flurry, kept a smile on her face, and also found time to deal with some of the more interesting problems people submitted to his blog. The website had taken off like bushfire and had even featured in London's _Evening Standard _attracting more people with unsolvable mysteries to their consulting room.

But throughout all the cases and the press coverage and the unstinting glory, Merlin kept to her own lines of enquiry, holding her cards so close to her chest that not even he knew all the details. He only knew she had looked into the forged painting now on full display in the Tate Modern, and that whatever she had found during that investigation had further caught her attention.

Eventually, suddenly, the detective's work had come to fruition and she summoned Gilthunder for a meeting at Baker Street and, over the course of an hour, proceeded to talk and talk, setting out each and every piece of evidence she had uncovered. Escanor's eyes went wide as Merlin walked them both through it all, showing them the web of crime she had unearthed with what he thought was crystalline clarity. He forgot to breathe or even take notes. What Merlin was revealing in their cosy consulting room was on a grander scale than he could have ever possibly have imagined.

Gilthunder, however, did not see it that way. "What are you talking about," the police officer scoffed as Merlin drew to the end of her narrative. "This is absolute rot!" Merlin returned his cold stare, unperturbed and Gilthunder barked in response, "We're in twenty-first century London, not some melodramatic Victorian novel."

"Nevertheless there is a force at play behind all of this," Merlin insisted.

Escanor's heart thumped with excitement. The detective wore a sort of rapt expression, one that had only graced her features a few times over the past several months. "You know yourself, Inspector, the man you apprehended attempting to steal from the Tower of London - did he call himself Golgius? - had not the wit nor the cunning to divine such a plan. For all his stupidity he would have succeeded in removing the crown jewels from their displays if you had not been sensible enough to heed my warnings. He got past all of the security measures completely undetected. The press called him The Invisible Man. Now, that was well done. And we both spoke to him. You know as well as I that this brilliant plan was not his own."

Merlin paused, Gilthunder giving a reluctant nod as the detective took a small sip of tea. "Listen Gilthunder. There is a force of evil, a person or persons who work in the darkness to lend their aid to London's criminal fraternity."

Slowly but surely, the police officer's face lost its look of derision to be replaced with a sort of tired acceptance. Escanor felt a rush of triumph on Merlin's behalf as Gilthunder extracted his notebook and started making a record of all she had found. "Who is it? What do you know about them?" the police officer asked.

"I will… find out." Merlin walked to the window, gripping the mantelpiece with both hands in a way that showed her perturbation, and Escanor felt his concern as he watched her knuckles grow white.

"I have not been able to discover their identities," she reluctantly admitted into the following silence. "I know that the trainer, Cusack, is one of their number." Gilthunder rolled his eyes behind her back. "He has to be," she snapped, as if she had seen. "But as to the rest of them, and the person who leads them, I am… still in the dark myself. But I will find them!"

She turned, the look on her face so fierce Escanor had shrunk back a little into the collar of his shirt. "And when I do you will assist me in catching them…" Escanor could feel the lump in his throat, the determination running through him as he returned her gaze. "I _will _find them."

* * *

But the finding was slow, and it was several more days before there was a break in the case, announced by Merlin's satisfied sigh.

"This is Orlondi's writing!" she declared happily over breakfast one morning, the toast she had been crunching mere moments before discarded and forgotten on her plate.

Escanor looked up sharply from his paper, the sheets rustling as he laid the broadsheet down tentatively, trying his best to avoid the plates and cutlery strewn out on the table. Merlin held up an envelope to the light. Head cocked to one side, she scrutinised it carefully, turning it this way and that, removing her magnifying glass to give it a close inspection and, to his surprise, even sniffing it once or twice, the laser-like focus and almost dreamy expression a sure sign that whoever Orlondi might be, they had something to do with the shadowy force Merlin had given so much dedication to uncovering.

"Are you not going to enquire as to who the gentleman is?"

Escanor jolted, his thoughts turning to haze as he shot the detective a guilty look, relief flowing through him when he saw her teasing smile. "Uh, of course," he said quickly as Merlin let forth a chuckle. "I-I mean might I… maybe, hazard a guess?"

"You may do nothing of the sort," Merlin said, and Escanor swallowed before her smile broadened and she added, "but you may of course expound on any conclusions you have drawn from the available data." She passed the envelope to him across the table. "You may add an examination of this item to your previous deductions."

Escanor took the envelope almost reverently, his gaze resting on Merlin's long, delicate-looking fingers. Shaking his head, he quickly set to his task, turning the paper over in an imitation of the detective's actions. First, he looked at the handwritten address on the front, then felt the paper between finger and thumb before finally holding the letter to his nose, inhaling deeply and to little effect.

"Well?" Merlin leaned forward, her elbows resting on the tablecloth.

Escanor cleared his throat, stealing himself, doing his best to imitate Merlin's style as he began, "Ahem, well, the letter was I think written by a man, judging by the handwriting, and he's someone who might be described as pretentious. There's some sort of scent I think, though I'm not sure what it is, and your name and address were written with a fountain pen. The paper's expensive too. It's not like stationery is a status symbol anymore, so this is… well, pointlessly flashy."

Merlin smiled at him, but otherwise gave nothing away. So Escanor continued, "And… um, the man has something to do with whatever it is you're looking for because nothing else makes you light up like that. But… that's it from me."

Merlin looked at him, her head cocked to one side. "That's… I am surprised you noticed," she murmured, her soft much softer than usual, before she shook her shoulders and returned his gaze. "And the rest of it was not too bad either. You are correct as to Orlondi's gender and his, shall we say, proclivities to be ostentatious. You are also right about his employer. But you missed everything else of importance."

"Should I have looked at the spacing and characters?"

"Of course not!" snapped Merlin impatiently. "Graphology of that nature can hardly be described as a science. You need to try something a little more… reliable."

Escanor nodded. "Well, um… what was it? What did I miss?"

"The cologne for one," Merlin said loftily. "The scent the gentleman wears is very distinctive and, if you know about such things, you would be able to tell that the man's fragrance of choice is extremely expensive. So he is a man of taste and means in many aspects of his life, not only in stationery. The other thing you failed to notice is so obvious I am tempted to make you discover it for yourself. Take another look."

Escanor obediently examined the paper again, scrunching up his eyes as he realised what he had missed. "There's no post mark!" he exclaimed. "There's a stamp but nothing printed over the top. This must have been delivered by hand."

"Indeed. And the most remarkable thing is, I saw no one bring it," said Merlin ruefully. "From which I think it is safe to deduce that Orlondi is both careful and frightened. His employer must be formidable indeed."

"H-his employer?"

"Yes," replied Merlin, her jaw visibly tensed. "Orlondi has confirmed that the organisation we seek is headed by an individual. Annoyingly, he was too nervous to divulge further details. Let us hope that this missive is a little more forthcoming."

"How did you recruit him?" Escanor asked.

"Interestingly enough, Orlondi found me." Merlin took the letter back from Escanor, once more turning it over and over in her fingers. "I decided it was time to show my hand, so I told Cusack everything I know: that he is an agent and that the gang he works for has been involved in any number of misdeeds. He evidently relayed this intelligence to his bosses. It was not even twenty-four hours later that Orlondi contacted me with an offer to pass information. I gather his conscience is troubling him. So let us see what he has to say."

The sound of tearing paper filled his ears. The tension was so palpable, Escanor could practically feel it on the air. Neither he nor Merlin acknowledged Jericho as she bustled into the room, tutting loudly as she removed the breakfast paraphernalia. "You're welcome," she said sarcastically, causing Escanor to stammer out his thanks but Merlin gave no reply at all, her brows furrowing even more deeply as she looked at the letter.

"Take a look and see what you think," she mused as Jericho practically slammed the door behind her. Escanor met the detective's gaze, swallowing as he saw the playful light in her eyes. Whatever the missive contained has evidently piqued her interest.

He looked at the letter, frowning as he read:

_The wasp targets bees working in their hives. London beekeepers inhabit: Islington, Camden, Barnet, Shoreditch, Farringdon, Vauxhall, Brixton, Westminster and Chelsea. There is certainly a known risk for people of attack or death. But the benefits are for employers: pollination, community, drugs, the environment, trade. _

He looked up sharply at the detective. "It's nonsense," he declared, unable to keep the disappointment out of his tone. "Unless… but is it a code?" He looked at the letter closely again. "I… the syntax is odd, but I can't seem to see how it works."

Merlin smiled, her face stretching to a mischievous grin. "Indeed it is code, Escanor. And it is not a difficult message to decipher. I am surprised Orlondi did not go to more sophisticated lengths to conceal his meaning. Every third word," she said kindly as his brow furrowed more deeply.

"Oh!" Escanor looked at the letter once more, reading aloud as he counted out the words.

"Targets in London: Islington, Shoreditch, Brixton, Chelsea. Certainly risk of death. Benefits employers drugs trade."

"Quite a simple little puzzle, if you can call it that," declared Merlin, "but the meaning is clear. The organisation has targets in various parts of central London, and that eliminating these people will in some way benefit their activities, the ones relating to the distribution of drugs in particular. We know the group are associated with the supply of narcotics from our encounter with Cusack," Merlin continued as Escanor started to make rapid notes. "It stands to reason that they would wish to reduce competition from difficult rivals."

"But…" Escanor began, then stopped, his face flushing.

Merlin regarded him carefully. "No, go on. What was it you were going to say?"

"I… um… well, I was wondering what we can do with this? It's not like Orlondi has been very specific. I mean, who is it they're targeting, and when?"

"And there you have stumbled on the crux of the problem." Merlin sighed, rising from her seat to pace to the window.

The morning sunlight shone in a pale stream through the glass. The days had only recently started to turn cold, the warmth of the summer lasting even into the autumn, much to the delight of the dwindling numbers of tourists. In the past weeks, however, the air had turned crisp with the promise of frost, the flower baskets that had lined Baker Street with displays of pink and purple now bare and barren, patiently awaiting the coming of Spring.

"I quite agree, this information is hardly sufficient. It is not enough for us to identify whoever is at risk so that they can be put on their guard," Merlin lamented. "I also doubt the police will give it much credence, though I will of course alert Inspector Gilthunder. Meanwhile, we will carry out our own investigations and see if we can shed light on these unanswered questions."

* * *

For the first time since he had moved into Baker Street just over a year ago, Escanor felt like a fully fledged partner. As Merlin scoured the streets, moving through the city she knew like the back of her hand, Escanor did the same with the Internet, the pair working together to explore lines of enquiry. Likely targets were found, then dismissed. As the days flew by, Merlin grew increasingly frustrated at the lack of progress, though between them she and Escanor helped the police get a much better handle on London's drugs trade.

It was a cold, soggy November day when the case finally lurched into life. Escanor was slumped a little over the breakfast table, doing his best to avoid Merlin's scrutiny from the opposite side of the table as he tried to inhale as much coffee as possible. He had not slept well at all, having been kept up till the small hours by Halloween revellers, their drunken cries echoing through the city until well after midnight. It was a jolt when, face grim and stormy, Gilthunder barged into their room, Jericho knowing better than to get in his way. The inspector looked shaken, his eyes ringed with dark bags and his usually immaculate suit jacket crumpled. Escanor started, his pulse quickening. The police officer's face was enough to tell him whatever the matter was, it was something serious.

"Tell me everything you know about this Orlondi person," Gilthunder said without preamble, Merlin folding her arms and setting down her fork as she met his stern gaze.

"I have given you all the information I have, as you very well know," the detective complained, "and you have done precisely nothing to assist my endeavours. Do I take it from your sudden marked interest that the deaths Orlondi foretold have come to pass?"

Gilthunder glared, then his shoulders fell and he flopped, defeated, into a chair. "Four murders in Islington, Shoreditch, Brixton and Chelsea, all committed some time last night and all clearly connected," he groaned. "All of the victims are associated with the illicit drugs trade. So now I have a pattern killer on my books."

Merlin raised her brows but said nothing at all and Escanor looked between her and Gilthunder, wondering which of the two would break the increasingly uncomfortable silence. In the end it was Gilthunder. "I… I need your help. Please," he finally ground out through gritted teeth as Merlin relented, her shoulders dropping as she chuckled to herself.

"Of course, I could hardly let you tackle this one alone."

Escanor had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself laughing out loud as Gilthunder's mouth fell open, indignation and gratitude chasing each other across his features. Ignore this, Merlin sat up a little straighter in her own chair as, unbidden, Escanor started to make notes. "Tell me what has happened."

"They were killed with a sword!" Gilthunder exclaimed. "A real, honest to goodness sword. The doctor has been extremely clear about that. Who kills people with swords in the twenty-first century?"

A sly smile spread across Merlin's face. "Go on," she commanded.

Gilthunder sighed. "You had better come and see the scenes of crime for yourself. It's just… incredible. The killer must have walked through the streets, we've worked out that much. CCTV footage from the busses and underground show they did not use public transport, and enquiries with the black cabs and Ubers have drawn a blank too. The only sensible theory, daft as it sounds, is that the killer must have gone around dressed in costume, otherwise a sword would have been noticed."

"I hate Halloween," Escanor muttered to himself, drawing an appreciative snort from the inspector, before Gilthunder's face fell once more to a sombre gloom.

"Quite. Well, apart from the fact that whoever this killer is they must be from your favourite gang, that's all we know. They left no fingerprints, and likely no DNA either say the crime scene officers, though samples are being tested just in case. They say they've never seen anything like it; the places are completely clean apart from the bodies."

"I would expect nothing less from this organisation." Merlin stood, and Escanor felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. She looked so determined, so full of fire, her amber eyes gleaming. "Let's go," she commanded. "The game's afoot!"

* * *

Several hours later, Escanor shivered as he stood in yet another room in yet another depressing house, yet more blood surrounding another lifeless corpse. This Brixton property was the last of the crime scenes they had visited, but the horror of death had not grown any easier to bear. Still, he had remembered to breathe and had just about managed to stay in control, taking breaks in the fresh air when he needed. Gelda and Merlin had done wonders for his confidence.

Gilthunder was looking at Merlin, his bright blue eyes pointed to her like daggers. The detective had performed the same procedure at each of the sites, examining the areas and the bodies minutely. As she stood, straightening her back from her latest examination, the police officer barked, "I hope you have something that will help us catch this killer."

Merlin quirked a brow, shooting Escanor a mischievous look. "I do not have much," she replied. "Your crime scene officers are right. I deduce from the remarkable lack of detritus or marks on the floor that the killer prepared the rooms in advance. It is likely that they covered the area with plastic sheeting or similar, taking it away with them when they departed. That is why there is so little blood," the detective continued as Gilthunder stared at her in astonishment. "Look, on this corpse for instance the murderer severed the carotid artery. He will have bled out in a matter of moments. This room should be awash with blood."

"The doctor did say it was odd…" Gilthunder mused.

"Not odd. As I told you it is totally explicable. I have heard of plastic sheeting being used this way in a previous case. The organisation we are tracking evidently is not averse to stealing ideas from other criminals. As to the rest, I can tell you that the man - and it is a man you are looking for - is right-handed and short of stature, no more than five foot in height, with an arrogant expression and spiky hair. He is fit, agile and skilled with an old-fashioned blade. It is likely that he originates from a wealthy background and has attended a private school. He is also very controlled, plans meticulously and has nerves of steel and a sense of fair play." Merlin paused, and Escanor counted three seconds before she concluded, "Other than that I have nothing to give you."

A strangled noise issued from the back of Gilthunder's throat as Escanor gushed, "Amazing. That was… _amazing _. How do you know all of that?"

"I was about to ask the same question," Gilthunder grumbled.

"Elementary," Merlin said loftily. She attempted to don an air of indifference but Escanor could tell she was enjoying herself from the way her fingers twitched as she talked. "If you look at the marks of the sword on the body you can see that they are clean. There is absolutely no sign of hesitation. That tells you the killer is skilled with a sword and not troubled by nervousness. The angle of the strokes and the strength which he must command to have cut this deeply give you his gender, his dominant hand and his height, which is something your pathologist has no doubt noted."

Gilthunder grudgingly nodded at this. "Alright, but what about the rest?"

"That your killer is agile and fit is easily deducted from the fact that he managed to walk most of the way across central London in one night, committing four murders which required physical dexterity. Someone less athletic would have struggled with that."

"Fine," Gilthunder barked as Escanor breathed in sharply, a smile stretching his face. No matter how many times he witnessed this, he was still awed by Merlin's deductive abilities. "But what about the stuff about him coming from a wealthy background. That has to be a guess."

"It is not as certain as the killer's physical attributes, that I will give you," Merlin conceded. "I did say it was _likely _not proven. But think, Gilthunder, it is not everyone who can use a sword. The odds are in favour of the killer receiving a good deal of training in a sport such as fencing. Even in this day and age this pursuit tends to be dominated by those attending private schools, so the balance of probability is that the killer is wealthy, or has at least come from an affluent background."

Merlin smiled sweetly as Gilthunder too started to jot a few notes down in shorthand. "As to the rest, that I deduced from the crime scene. The killer's love of control and meticulous planning is indicated by the significant preparations he took so as to leave no trace evidence, while his sense of fair play is clear from the fact that he gave his victims the chance to fight back."

"What?" Gilthunder's pen stopped in its tracks. "He did what?"

"I could not be sure until examining this corpse, but there is no doubt," Merlin declared. "All four of the bodies show the same signs. Look at the right hand of this gentleman," she said as she gestured at the body lying prone on the floor. "Observe the way the fingers are positioned."

Escanor bent down, careful not to stand too close to the body. "It looks like he was holding something," he said slowly, glancing up at Merlin, pleased to see her incline her head. "He had something in his hand before he died?"

"Precisely. I suspect that all the victims were given a weapon which the killer removed once he had completed his task. Hence a sense of fair play. Whoever this man is, he could not attack an unarmed opponent." Merlin turned to the inspector. "I trust that will be sufficient for you to get on with at present. You can start to look at CCTV footage from the neighbouring streets. The man was likely travelling in a group, also in costume. Even on Halloween night a lone walker with a sword strapped to his waist would have raised a few eyebrows."

Merlin was nearly at the door when Gilthunder called out, "But what about the spiky hair? How can you possibly know about that? The killer left no hairs at all!"

Merlin stopped, but did not turn around. "All arrogant young men of this type have spiky hair nowadays," she remarked before disappearing from the room, snickering as Escanor followed close behind her.


	12. Betrayal

I know this week has been hard for Escalin fans :( - I hope this helps a little. If it makes any difference I can promise a happy ending for this story at least.

* * *

"That. Was. _Amazing _."

The streets were packed, throngs of people milling on the pavement. It was kicking out time for the offices and many commuters were waiting for buses and taxis, exiting shops, walking down the road hand in hand as they made their way to the restaurants and bars. The air was alive, the energy of the city coursing through his veins. It had happened so gradually he had barely noticed, but London now felt like his home, a greater organism to which he belonged.

Escanor needed to trot a little to keep up with the detective as he side-stepped the other passers by. Brixton was a notoriously lively place, and it was only fitting to see it live up to its reputation.

He grinned to himself as he managed to dodge around a group of uniformed school children who were laughing as they jostled one another, taking up far more of the pavement than they had any right to. But none of it mattered. He was so excited, so enthralled with Merlin's latest brilliance that he was unperturbed by the litter-strewn pavements, or the noise and smell of the crowd.

Merlin paused at his words, then smiled at Escanor over her shoulder, slowing her pace until he drew alongside her. "Well," she murmured as she looked at him through thick lashes, "It was no more than the most basic deductions."

"The police are bound to find the killer now," Escanor gushed, beaming excitedly at her. "You gave them such a clear picture…"

His words ground to a halt as Merlin shook her head. "I am not so sure," she said with a sigh. "This killer is likely to be out of the ordinary. The organisation we are hunting evidently sent its best operative to manage this job. Those crime scenes were textbook examples of how not to be caught and he achieved that not once, but four times within a single night. Whoever he is, I highly doubt we will locate him easily."

Escanor's face fell, and his feet felt like lead as he trudged beside the detective, her unease permeating through to his soul. "So, what shall we do?" he asked. He bit his lip hard before adding, "I… well… I've, um... been thinking about this. Maybe we could find someone else in the group? Like Orlondi. Someone who might be willing to give us more info? There must be some way to track them down."

Merlin's hands twisted together. "Perhaps," she agreed with an incline to the head. "In fact, I have been thinking of a possible line of enquiry."

"You have?"

"Yes." Merlin looked around, then lowered her voice, Escanor having to strain to hear her over the hum of conversation and the steady thrum of the slow moving busses. He too cast furtive looks about the area as Merlin continued, "You may have noticed that many of the cases we have been able to link to this organisation involve the sale of illegal drugs. The ones found in Monspeet's system suggest they are experimenting with the formulae. So perhaps…"

"Merlin!" Escanor interrupted excitedly, her words forgotten as he spied a familiar face. "It's Gelda!" He saw the detective follow his gaze to the front of a restaurant, large window showing an inside barely illuminated by dimmed electric lights and the flickering glow of small candles set on the tables. Still, it was possible to make out his therapist's face. She was smiling at her dining companion, her arms stretched over the table to hold his hands. It made his heart skip a beat to see Gelda looking so blissfully happy. He knew she was a person with her own life, of course, but it was easy to forget that. They never discussed Gelda's personal life.

With a jolt, he felt himself being tugged away with not enough time to give even the most feeble of protests. "Merlin," he complained once the movement had stopped, his brows furrowing as the detective wrenched him into an alley, "what was that for? You told me you wanted to meet Gelda if you had the chance. Well there she is. I'm sure she wouldn't mind if we said hello. Why…"

"Escanor!" Merlin said with exasperation, her eyes fixed hard on him. "Did you not examine the man she was with?"

He shook his head. "N-no? I was looking at her. Should I…"

"Once again you see but you do not observe. Come and look, but follow my lead and be careful. It is imperative that you are not seen." Merlin pressed herself against the rough, brick wall, Escanor mimicking her actions as she beckoned him to stand in front of her so that he could peak his head around the edge of the wall.

This time he looked at Gelda's companion. It was hard to see much but Escanor registered the man's spiked hair, the small, athletic build, the cut of the suit and the shine of his shoes. The clothes the man wore were expensive, tailor made even. The more he saw the more his blood ran cold. "No," he gasped incredulously. "Merlin, you can't think…"

"I do not think, I _know _," Merlin snapped.

Escanor bit his lip again. "I… how can you be so sure?" he asked tentatively. "I mean, I can see how he fits your description, but… so could someone else? Anybody else! I mean…"

"You do not recognise him?" Merlin peered at him crossly. "Examine his features again."

Sucking in a deep breath, Escanor looked more closely at the figure behind the glass, his eyes widening in shock. Merlin was right, it was a face he knew, one that he had seen a number of times on computer screens over the past several months as he researched the cases he and the detective had solved. "It's… is it Zeldris? Meliodas's brother?"

"Indeed. That is Colonel Zeldris Moran, recently retired from Her Majesty's army and, now his father is dead, one of the wealthiest young men in England. He is also an alumnus of Harrow School where, if my memory serves me right, he excelled at fencing, even representing his country at junior level. He will have been taught by the egregious Cusack. And he is also the one who sold the forged painting to the Tate Modern. And now here he is, not two miles away from the site of a murder committed by a man precisely fitting his description, holding hands with _your _therapist. This is our man."

Parts of Escanor's brain seemed to click into place, the world shifting on its axis as the pieces of the puzzle slotted together. "Oh Merlin, I told her everything!" he managed to force out past the growing lump in his throat as the enormity of his mistake hit him like a missile. The detective looked at him sharply and he shrank a bit under her obvious displeasure, but made himself say, "I told her about Monspeet. I told her the police had a warrant to search Cusack's gym. And then on the way home there was that attack on the Houses of Parliament. Do you think..."

"I always did think that terrorist attack was too much of a coincidence. Gelda, if that is her real name, must have sounded the alarm. I know better than to doubt that this organisation can mobilise a madman to try and blow up our legislature at the drop of a hat. And it worked. The police stopped looking at Cusack long enough for him to hide any evidence."

Merlin sighed, then her shoulders relaxed. "It's not your fault, Escanor," she said gently as his gaze dropped to the floor. "It is mine. I should have looked into this Gelda more carefully. I should have realised she was working for them. That you were in danger! I let you see her _alone _and she could have done anything to you. Perhaps if you hadn't confided in her then... I should have protected you! I am so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"

He was not sure how his hands ended up in hers, or which of them had made the first move. All he knew was that Merlin's fingers were laced with his own, her skin softer and warmer than he would have expected. He could barely breathe, barely think. All he could do was watch as their fingers moved more tightly together, willing himself to commit the moment to memory and preserve it in aspic and never, ever let it go.

"Of course, there's nothing to forgive," he finally murmured in response, swallowing as Merlin's thumb caressed the back of his hand.

"Thank you." Their hands stayed together for several more moments before they finally broke apart, Merlin pulling out her phone. "We need to get back to Baker Street. Right now. Thanks to their carelessness, we now have more information about the people we are tracking. And a brand new line of enquiry." Escanor held his hands together, remembering the way Merlin's fingers had felt, his heart racing to see the light in her eyes, the light that was a sure sign of imminent discovery.

"I've called an Uber, we need to get to it without being seen. Follow me." Carefully, Merlin peered round the wall, waiting for a few minutes before slipping past the corner and heading at pace down the street, Escanor taking furtive glances at the restaurant before sneaking behind her.

* * *

Back in their consulting room a few hours later, Merlin kept glancing at the CCTV image of the street below, occasionally getting up from her chair to pace to the window only to return to her place. When she was sitting, her legs crossed and uncrossed and her hands fidgeted in her lap.

Escanor tried to read his notes, wondering whose presence Merlin could have requested. She had clearly instructed someone to pay them a visit. In fact Escanor had caught brief sight of the text - '_ Come at once if convenient. If inconvenient, come all the same.' - _but he could not guess to whom the message had been sent, the excitement that fizzed in his chest too great to allow him to concentrate.

"Aha!" cried Merlin loudly, making him jump. Escanor just about managed to catch hold of his notebook before it slipped from his hands. He glanced up at the monitor, understanding dawning on him as a familiar figure with messy blonde hair knocked on the door, his eyes darting from side to side. The door opened instantly and Meliodas was ushered inside. Evidently Jericho had been warned to expect the arrival.

"Glad you could make it," Merlin exclaimed as Meliodas shuffled through the door. She held it open for the bartender, much to Escanor's surprise. He had never seen her do that before. "Please take a seat," she continued. Meliodas cast her a wary glance, then positioned himself on the very edge of the sofa, his eyes constantly flickering to the door which Merlin had shut firmly behind him.

Meliodas opened his mouth, but nothing came forth. The silence rang through the room, Merlin staring at their guest and Escanor knowing better than to make any noise. Eventually it got to the point that Meliodas blurted out, "Look, I really don't know why I'm here. You said you wanted information on my brother? Well, you see, he and I… we don't really get on. At all. In fact he hates me," Meliodas continued with a chuckle. "So, you see, I've got nothing to say. Nothing at all."

"If that was the case you would not have come, and you would not look nearly so uncomfortable," Merlin remarked as she leaned forward, her fingers steepling before her. "There is something, I know there is, and you might as well say it. I told you what is at stake…"

"Yes and, you see that's the thing, I just can't believe it." Meliodas rubbed the back of his head, his face the dictionary definition of crestfallen. "Zel's always been an uptight little shit but drugs? Murder? It's just incredible!"

"Nevertheless it is true." Merlin was doing her best to hide it but Escanor could tell from her shoulders that she was tense. "I am not asking for any secrets," she said gently. "I merely wish to learn a little more about those who associate with Zeldris. Cusack, I am acquainted with but there must be others who you are aware of."

"Oh!" Meliodas's green eyes snapped to Merlin's. "You think he's being influenced? Yeah, perhaps. He's very much his own man, is Zel, but he does fixate on people. When that happens he can't see their faults, if you know what I mean? He gets sucked in and thinks they're amazing."

Merlin nodded slowly. "Many people are like that, it is an unfortunate trait." Escanor blushed a little at this, recognising himself in the description.

Meliodas sighed. "He always did hang out with the wrong people. Cusack for instance. We all thought he was weird at school. I stayed clear of him, but he doted on Zel and… Zel likes adoration. He had a little group of followers, but I don't think he's in touch with them anymore. They didn't live up to his standards."

Merlin stayed very still, her posture like that of a cat ready to spring. Meliodas swallowed visibly, shaking his head a bit before he continued, "I warned him about his girlfriend. She's… ambitious, in my opinion. That's why he won't speak to me anymore. I told him Gelda was after his money and his, this sounds daft, but his position in society. He, ahem, didn't want to hear it. He barred me from the house actually," Meliodas said with a chuckle, "which is pretty funny as it's technically mine. It was entailed, so father couldn't will it away from me. Still, I've let Zel have it. I've got Elizabeth, Ban, and the Boar Hat. That's all I need."

"You were at the house?" Merlin asked with interest.

"Oh yeah, I went round once just after father died. I'm not sure why," said Meliodas dreamily. "Maybe… I don't know, I wanted to see Zel, I guess. The feeling was not mutual…"

"My brother won't speak to me either," Escanor said into the silence that followed, his voice hoarse as he forced out the words. "He's older than me," he added as Meliodas looked at him with round eyes. "And he doesn't think a lot of me. It hurts sometimes, and I wish I could bridge the gap, but I know deep down it's never going to happen."

Meliodas twisted on the sofa to face him more fully. "Yes exactly," he said gratefully. "But I thought I should try, you know? So I went around to see him. But Zel had company. Gelda was there," he said with distaste, "and some other people I didn't recognise. None of them were very pleased to see me."

"Describe them," Merlin commanded. Once Meliodas's attention was back on the detective, Escanor slowly started to make careful notes, his fingers trembling slightly. From the way Merlin was gazing at the bartender, this was clearly the information they had been searching for.

"One was a thug, there's no other way of putting it." Meliodas rubbed his face with his hands. "Long dark hair, dark eyes, and a forehead that looked as if he never stopped frowning. He was like a boxer or something and I presumed Zel had met him on the circuit. He has some athlete friends."

Merlin nodded slowly, her face a mask but Escanor could feel her excitement crackling in the air. "Must have been a shock. Who else was there?" she probed casually.

"A really, really peculiar woman." Meliodas leaned forwards a little at this. "She was so odd!" Merlin looked at him impatiently and Meliodas shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, she's hard to describe. Thin and she looked, well crazy. Tawny hair in a bob, scary brown eyes. I'd say about 30 years old. She looked the type to own several cats."

Escanor made quick notes, Merlin waiting for his nod before she asked Meliodas, "Thank you. Was there anyone else?"

"Yes…" Meliodas paused. "I… yes there was someone, but, well, I don't know if I can describe them. It was dark!" Meliodas protested in explanation as Merlin looked at him coldly. "They were in the study you see and - Zel's so pretentious - they had the lights off. He did that when he was a kid too. He and his friends would hole up in there. There was a good fire and it's a pretty big fireplace but still there was a lot of dark round the edges of the room. I couldn't see much of this guy's face, only that he was medium height, and had this weird fringe thing, like a dragon's tongue."

Merlin's shoulders stiffened. "Do I hear you right? There was a forked bit of hair sticking out to one side?"

"Y-yes," stuttered Meliodas.

Escanor bit his lip as Merlin quivered with excitement. "Does that mean something to you?" he asked in a hushed whisper.

"It does." Merlin looked at him with piercing eyes. "It confirms a suspicion I had just started to form. It is fantastic but, when you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Thank you very much for your time," she added to the bartender before Escanor could squeeze out his question. "You have been extremely helpful."

"No problem!" Meliodas shot to his feet. "Is that the time? I've got to get back to the Boar Hat," he said without really looking at the clock on the wall. "Let me know if you need anything."

He sprang to the door, bouncing on the soles of his feet when Merlin called, "Meliodas, please take care of yourself." He turned around, the grin on his face sliding downwards when he caught Merlin's solemn expression. "I mean it," she said quietly. "If your brother's gang find out you have spoken to us, they may take steps. That is why I asked you to come here, rather than going to you. I thought it would look more like a casual visit rather than something I had organised…"

Meliodas snorted. "I really think this is just too crazy," he said. "Zel isn't part of any gang. And he'd never hurt me, however cross he is. Be seeing you! Stop by the Boar Hat if you fancy a beer."

Without further word, Meliodas skipped out of the room, the detective staring after him with pursed lips. "Um… Merlin, do you really think he's in danger?" Escanor asked.

"Very much so." Merlin stood once more, heading towards the window, pressing her palms to the sill. Escanor joined her, and the pair of them watched the bartender as he made his way down the street. "If they discover he was here…. Let us just say I hope he is on his guard." Escanor swallowed as Meliodas strode towards the tube station, eventually slipping out of sight.


	13. The Final Problem

It's the big reveal! I really hope you enjoy this chapter and the identity of Moriarty is at least a bit of a surprise. Let me know in the comments if you guessed it!

Thanks to lickitysplit for beta reading super powers - you are the best.

* * *

Rain, loud and insistent, pelted against the windows, turning the view of Baker Street into an indeterminate blur. Escanor sat at his computer, reading and re-reading the blog posts he had so painstakingly written on the advice of a woman who had meant him no good. He let his head fall into his hands, his elbows resting on his desk so that the fabric of his jumper pushed into his skin. How could he have been so bloody stupid? A pretty face and a soft voice had lulled him into a false sense of security. With hindsight, what Gelda had wanted was so bloody obvious. The more he thought about it the worse it had become and he cursed himself for his folly again and again.

With a sudden rush of decision, Escanor clicked the left mouse button, deleting the blog in its entirety. He had been psyching himself up for the move for nearly a week; now that it was done he felt lost, empty, anxiety and hurt clawing at his insides. He could feel the edge of something on his consciousness, a tinge of panic, intrusive thoughts bashing on the edge of his brain.

_You've ruined everything. _

_You're still the useless shit you were in Iraq. _

_Your brother is right, you'll never amount to anything. _

_You let Merlin down... _

Sucking in a deep breath, Escanor did his best to push the thoughts away. _It's because you haven't seen Gelda _, he said to himself, causing another wave of guilt to ripple through his stomach. He could feel the tears threaten, feel his breathing grow desperate and ragged, feel the edge of despair expanding so that it threatened to engulf him whole, the darkness only stopped by a sharp knock on the door.

He gave no answer. Escanor kept his head in his hands as someone entered the room, shutting the door with an audible squeak and a click. "Escanor," Merlin said, her usually authoritative tones softened to a coax. "I brought you some tea."

He looked up at this, tears beginning to fall down his face as Merlin stepped towards him. She placed the cup on the desk beside him, then rested a hand on his shoulder. "I told you," she said, her words uncharacteristically gentle, "it is not your fault."

"I let you down…" His voice ground to a halt, the lump in his throat swallowing the words. "I don't deserve to be here. I… I can't…" He closed his eyes once more, feeling himself on the precipice until a pair of arms circled around him.

"You mean more to me than that," Merlin said softly, causing him to still in her hold. "And I do not tell you so nearly enough, and that is on me. I ought to know that you need to hear it."

He said nothing, silence ringing until Merlin continued, "If you made a mistake, it was no more than my own. I know this is easier said than done, but I wish you would just relax about this and help me catch the gang. You cannot remain in your room forever and… I am truly worried about you." Merlin's arms tightened around him for a moment before she drew back to stand up straight beside the desk. He looked up at her then to see her sincerity etched on her face as she added, "Please, come and help me."

"A-are you sure? You still want me?" Escanor asked in a strangled voice.

"Of course. As I told you, I think I know who they are, and what the next move should be. So come and help me plan would you? The game's afoot!"

He nodded weakly, his heart still beating too fast and the hurt inside still too great to let him feel any warmth. "Come on," murmured Merlin as she took his hand, assisting Escanor to his feet. He let her lead him to the consulting room, vaguely aware of the way her fingers entwined with his own.

When he reached their destination he gasped. Merlin had turned the space into some sort of war room. Maps and newspaper cuttings had been affixed to the walls, some with red and green pins sticking into them. There was also a whiteboard covered in photos; a wave of nausea made Escanor wobble as he spied Zeldris and Gelda in various grainy pictures which had evidently been taken with a powerful lens.

Merlin, apparently sensing his lack of balance, helped Escanor to the sofa. "What do you think?" she asked with a touch of pride.

"You've been busy," Escanor managed to reply.

Merlin grinned at him. "I believe I have the pieces of the puzzle, or at least enough of them to deduce what the picture resembles. Look," she commanded as she gestured at the whiteboard. "Tell me what you see."

Escanor did as he was told. In many of the pictures of Zeldris and Gelda, standing in the background was a dark, brooding man with a sour face and a crumpled forehead. With the collage before him, Escanor could tell the man was acting as some sort of bodyguard to the couple. Merlin followed his gaze and gave a slight chuckle. "That individual, I have discovered, is known as Fraudrin in the organisation," she revealed. "It is not his real name I dare say, but it is only a matter of time before I track him down. Gilthunder has finally agreed to run him through police facial recognition software. He has been very careless to let himself be seen."

Escanor frowned. "But… surely Gilthunder wants to get hold of Zeldris? He knows he's the killer doesn't he?" he enquired looking up at the detective, who gave an exasperated sigh.

"Yes and no." Merlin crossed her arms over her chest. "There is insufficient evidence, according to the inspector. But that is a nonsense. The real reason for the lack of police activity is that the man we are tracking is a powerful force politically, with a baron for a brother and friends in all the right places. No doubt if he had been a little less careful the Met would have found some pretext to question him, but the scenes were totally clean. There is no forensics evidence to speak of and in the circumstances Gilthunder's hands are tied."

"He's got away with it?" Escanor said a little breathlessly.

"For now," agreed Merlin bitterly, "but I have been on the gentleman's trail. Eventually he will make a mistake. I had hoped that we could charge the Gelda woman for false representation, but it transpires that she is a legitimate therapist, with the appropriate training and a valid licence. There is no action we can take against her for the way she treated you. Though trust me, I will make sure she pays."

Escanor's lungs worked a little more easily in his chest. "That makes you feel better?" Merlin enquired, her head cocked a little to one side.

"It does a bit," he admitted as he gave a weak smile. "I mean, she was so nice and she seemed to know what she was doing. I'm glad she was an actual therapist. It makes me feel a bit less stupid."

"You were not stupid at all," Merlin said with some force. "This is a professional organisation with a sophisticated set of operatives. We were both of us deceived by their strategy to secure information from you. I do wish you would stop blaming yourself," she added with a bit of impatience. Then she sighed once again. "I suppose that is easier said than done."

Escanor's hands clenched in his lap. "I-I will try," he managed to say. He looked once more at the whiteboard, scrutinising the display. "That man in the background, Fraudrin... is he the one Meliodas mentioned do you think? The one who was there in the study with the others?"

Merlin nodded. "He has to be. I believe I have also made good progress in locating the woman Meliodas mentioned. She has not made an appearance yet, but I am following several promising leads."

With some effort, Escanor managed to get to his feet, taking a few wobbly steps towards the board so that he could look more closely at the photographs. "These are all taken in the same area," he said slowly as he checked the backgrounds carefully. "This is a row of chestnut trees. But they're taken at different times of day judging by the shadows. They go to that place a lot?"

"St James' Park," Merlin confirmed. "This is, I believe, where the inner circle gather to receive their orders. There are sufficient indications to show Zeldris and Gelda are in a real relationship, and the fact that they are a couple helps them blend in with the rest of London's public who stroll by the lake. Once I determined who was in charge of the group it was easy to deduce where his operatives might meet him."

Escanor turned to stare at the detective. "You know the boss is?" he asked in a whisper.

"Once I had a sketch of his appearance. Until then I could not be sure." Merlin smiled. "You have found it hard to think for the last few days, but consider who we have encountered during our investigations who has hair like the individual Meliodas described."

Escanor's brows rose up as he racked his brains, images of every person who had been even tangentially involved in their cases flashing before his vision. "I can't think of anyone," he said sadly. "I don't… Merlin?" he cried out, unable to keep the panic from his tone as the detective stiffened, her eyes fixed on the CCTV monitor on the wall. "W-who is that?" he asked in a whisper as a man in a long Burberry knocked on the door.

The detective stood stock still, staring at the screen. "This I did not anticipate," Merlin said, her voice trembling with agitation. "It appears my efforts to track this organisation down have not gone unnoticed. The head of the operation himself has come to pay us a visit."

"You can't mean…" Escanor gaped. "That's him? The boss? The one responsible for… everything?"

"Yes! Quick, Escanor!" Merlin barked as the door swung inwards and Jericho's head appeared on the screen. "I cannot refuse the gentleman entry but we do not wish him to know about… all this," she rushed on as she gestured round the room. Escanor moved quickly, his arms shaking as he detached posters, rolling them up as Merlin turned the whiteboard around to face the wall.

They had just about managed to make the room look presentable when Jericho's knock sounded on the door. "You have a visitor," she announced as she entered the room. "Mister Arthur Pendragon."

Escanor felt his stomach drop to the floor, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as memories shifted into place. _The first case_, he thought as he looked into the violet eyes of the smiling man, auburn hair sweeping into a fringe that forked at the end, just like a dragon's tongue. _He owned the house Dale ruined._ _He must have wanted him dead…_

"I am sorry to call on you without an appointment," Arthur said pleasantly as Jericho gave the intruder a rare silent smile. Evidently the newcomer had made a favourable impression on their landlord. With a little bow, Jericho made her exit, shutting the door carefully behind her.

As their visitor looked round the room, Escanor's pulse quickened to see the man's gaze linger on the whiteboard, the rolls of paper he had placed behind Merlin's workbench and the marks in the wall where pins had made small indentations. "Quite a nice set up you have here," he remarked casually.

"To what do we owe the pleasure," Merlin asked cordially, all trace of tremor banished from her tone.

Arthur grinned and rubbed the back of his head. "Oh, the pleasure's all mine," he replied with a smile. "I've wanted to meet you for a while now. I'm a great admirer of your work. I read your blog with interest," Arthur added as he turned to Escanor, the smile never leaving his lips. "I was sorry to see you take it down."

"You did what?" Merlin gasped.

Escanor swallowed hard, words sticking in his throat as Arthur continued, "It's also a shame you gave up on your treatment. From what I can tell, therapy's worked wonders for you. You should learn to keep your appointments."

Escanor felt the blood drain from his face as Merlin let forth an audible gasp. He wanted to speak, but his lips would not form the words. "How dare you…" Merlin began.

"Still, I must thank you, I suppose," Arthur continued, indifferent to Merlin's outburst. "Even when you're not spilling the beans to my colleagues, you're the perfect spy. I always know exactly what you're thinking." Escanor's eyes fluttered closed, his stomach going into freefall. He had made even more mistakes than he had realised. He really was a useless piece of...

"Say what you came to say and get out."

Escanor looked up in surprise. His jaw fell slack as Merlin walked towards him until they were standing side by side, their shoulders touching. He examined her, taking in the hard line of her jaw, the way her lips were pale and pressed tight together. He had never seen her looking so angry.

"I am glad there is no pretence between us." In four sprightly strides, Arthur stepped over to the white board, swinging it round with a flourish. Their foe looked at the display, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as his eyes darted over the many photographs of Zeldris and Gelda. Merlin flinched, but said nothing and Escanor held his breath. He knew the detective hated anyone moving her possessions; even Jericho was not allowed to clean and tidy this room. Merlin must have been working hard not to yell, instead standing next to him in stony silence.

The clock on the wall ticked off thirty seconds before Arthur finally said, "I have come to make you a deal." His words were strained and hoarse and his violet eyes narrowed. "I have no wish to bring you harm," he added, shaking his head, his thunderous expression transforming to one of good humour as he gave a little laugh, "but I cannot allow _this _to continue."

His head inclined a little towards the whiteboard. "They are my employees and my friends. London is surely big enough for the two of us. You stay away from me and I'll return the favour." Arthur spread his hands out before him. "I don't want to quarrel. You can go about your business. In fact it does me a favour if you eliminate the competition. But trouble the people I care for again, and you will see me respond in kind." Escanor shuddered as Arthur glared directly at him, a slow smile curving his lips. "Your partner here is not the only one who gives things away. I know exactly how to make you suffer if I need to."

The detective barked a harsh laugh that made Escanor jolt, his breathing quickening to shallow pants. He could feel the edges of his vision fraying, the sounds in the room becoming muffled as if his ears were stuffed with cotton wool.

"Bring it on," Merlin hissed.

Arthur shrugged, and he rubbed the back of his head again as he addressed Escanor, "A pity. Your colleague here evidently cares less about you than I thought. Such a shame. Loyalty's so important, don't you think?" Escanor dared not look into Arthur's face. Was it true, what he said? Merlin cared for him, didn't she? Even today she had shown it! But perhaps… maybe he was mistaken. It would make sense if all of Merlin's apparent regard for him was in his own head. He had nothing to offer her, after all.

"I said get out." Merlin moved to the door, opening it wide.

Arthur chuckled. "Very well, I know when I'm not wanted. But think about what I said. The offer's still open." Arthur stretched his hands out before him, palms up. "Leave me alone and all will be well. Otherwise…"

"Out!"

Arthur was just on the threshold of the room when Merlin stepped after him to grasp his shoulder, her long fingers digging into his coat. Escanor had to strain to hear as she whispered, "And if you so much as come near my partner again, it will be the very last thing you ever do. Is that understood?"

"Oh, perfectly," Arthur said suavely, pulling away from the detective and dusting off his clothes ostentatiously. "You have shown your cards plainly. Rather more plainly than I think you realise. It's a poor hand, Ms Merlin. A very poor hand indeed."

As Arthur swept from the room, Escanor felt himself stumble. His limbs were heavy and his tongue refused to work. The sensation of cotton wool in his ears intensified, and it was as if someone was pressing hard on his eardrums. He saw Merlin turn to him, her lips moving, but he could not process the sounds, and could make none in return, his feet collapsing out from underneath him. He did not register as Merlin rushed towards him, catching him before he could hit the floor and helping him to the sofa. His mouth ran dry, and he struggled to breathe as the panic that had been hovering on the edge of his brain spilled over, rushing like waves to stake its claim.


	14. A Possible Witness

A/N: Thank you to lickitysplit for beta reading. You are the best!

* * *

"Her name is Vivian," Merlin said softly, her hand in Escanor's.

Her fingers pressing lightly into his skin. "I reasoned the organisation we are searching for must have a scientist amidst their ranks, someone who can experiment with formulae to create more marketable drugs. Based on our friendly bartender's description I searched Linkedin. Yes, me," she chuckled as Escanor shot her a look. "You have convinced me of the power of the Internet."

He nodded his head. It had been around an hour since Arthur had departed and Escanor's attack was beginning to pass off, his thoughts coming more easily and moving together to form something approaching coherence. He had even managed to grunt out a few words, though talking was still an effort. Merlin had stayed with him, placing a chair next to him so that she could hold his hand as he lay on the sofa, just speaking so that he did not need to respond and helping him to the occasional sip of water. Her stream of conversation had moved from the innocuous - Jericho, the weather, Jericho's cooking, Jericho - then gradually returned to the case they were investigating.

"Vivian works at Imperial College," Merlin continued. Escanor moved his head a little from side to side in an attempt to make himself more comfortable; Merlin reached for a cushion, helping him to lift himself so that she could slide the support under his neck. "She is a postdoctoral research fellow whose academic interests include hallucinogenic narcotics and performance enhancers, and she has worked for the International Olympics Committee as a drugs tester, which is no doubt why the organisation recruited her. I dare say they pay her well and give her some stability, two things most academic jobs are sadly lacking."

Merlin leaned back in her chair, her hand leaving his as she fished in her pocket for her phone. "Here," remarked Merlin. She angled the screen of her phone so that he could see a picture. It was a strange looking woman with wide, half-crazed brown eyes and a bob of tawny hair with flyaway strands, wearing a white lab coat which lay neatly over her form, holding a test tube full of green liquid.

Escanor opened his mouth to speak as Merlin continued, "You want to know what the plan is?"

He nodded. "Very well. I have asked Inspector Gilthunder to pay us a visit later this afternoon, which should give you sufficient time to recover. After that, we are heading to see Ms Vivian in her office in Kensington. She should just be leaving work at that time. Why Gilthunder?" she asked as Escanor began to stammer that exact question. She chuckled before continuing with a grin, "Wait and see. But if I am right, the inspector will be invaluable. Now, can you stand?"

Escanor experimentally tested his legs, which shakily moved on his command. Merlin helped him swing them off the sofa, guiding him into a sitting position. She placed a glass of water in his hands, and he managed to take a good draft, the dryness in his mouth melting away. "T-thank you," he managed to say. "Sorry."

"Do not ever say that word to me again." Merlin smiled at him, then helped him to his feet. "If nothing else, thanks to you we got to meet our antagonist, and that was an event I would not have missed for the world." Escanor managed to return her warm smile, a weight beginning to lift from his shoulders as Merlin escorted him from the room.

* * *

Several hours later, and feeling significantly better for a shower and a change of clothes, Escanor found himself once more in the consulting room listening to Merlin and Gilthunder's sharp back and forth. No matter how many times this occurred, Escanor had long since learned the pair seemed to derive some sort of satisfaction from these terse exchanges, and had learned to keep his mouth shut until their words fell into a lull. He was still feeling a little on edge, but found he could just push the thoughts away when they came to press on his brain. That he and Merlin had found another therapist for Escanor to visit - one who was known to the detective personally - and had set up an appointment for the following day had brought him a little comfort, along with a nervousness to be starting his treatment all over again.

"I still don't understand how you know this woman is one of the gang," Gilthunder whined as Merlin gave an audible tut. "Granted she looks… deranged, but that's hardly proof of criminality, is it? Otherwise I'd have arrested half of London."

Merlin's arms folded across her chest. "I have explained this several times…"

"Not well enough." Gilthunder sighed, his hands falling with a slap to his sides. "Look, I'd like to help you, really! I want to catch Zeldris and Gelda as much as you do. What she did is disgusting…" Gilthunder trailed off, shooting Escanor an apologetic look. "But try and see things from my perspective. All we have is conjecture and theories built on thin air. This is not enough for a police investigation."

"Very well. Then do not accompany us as a representative of the law," Merlin said brightly. "You will come with us as a private individual, just as we are. I need you to be there," she added as Gilthunder's eyebrows rose into his hair. "Is that so hard to understand?"

Gilthunder frowned. "Yes it is! I get why you would want a police officer with you when you're questioning someone you suspect of drug dealing and perhaps conspiracy to murder, but…"

"Just trust me would you!" Merlin said with an exasperated huff, causing Escanor to jolt in his seat. "This operation cannot succeed without you. So stop sulking. We need to leave now if we are to arrive at the right time."

"Fine!" Giving one of his trademark sighs, Gilthunder narrowed his eyes. "But this has better be worth it."

"It will be." Merlin gave a curt nod as she moved to the couch. "Are you feeling alright, Escanor?" she asked as she leaned in towards him, her voice lowered and spoken directly into his ear. "You can stay at home if you would like."

Escanor leant into the arm rests of the chair, finding his legs steady as he pushed himself to his feet. "No, I can manage," he said. "After all," he added, a smile blooming on his face, "it sounds like, ahem, the game's afoot?" Merlin snorted, then helped him to his feet. They crossed the room together and she gestured Gilthunder and Escanor out of the room.

* * *

Escanor gaped as he looked around Kensington, which made Baker Street look like some sort of hovel. All of the buildings were large and imposing, their marble and red brick edifices interspersed with pretty boutiques, over-priced ice cream parlours and foreign embassies. Even the smell seemed a class above, the soft accents of pastry and perfume floating on the breeze. Blinking, Escanor shook his head a little to see that the cars parked on the streets included several Ferraris.

"Yes it is quite ridiculous," Merlin murmured to him as they walked at a fast pace to Imperial College. "No one needs a sports car in central London."

"Gangster money," Gilthunder muttered under his breath. "Some of it is," he protested as Merlin shot him a cold look.

"And much of it is merely the wealthy being ostentatious." Merlin grinned as Gilthunder started to splutter. "Though I can concur with you, the individuals living in that particular property are up to no good." Escanor looked up at a large building, which lay still and quiet, though Escanor could detect the flicker of one of the curtains. Whoever was within did not wish to be seen.

"It is hard to be sure, but given the locale, I would say money laundering combined with the inevitable tax evasion are the most likely options. Do not stare," she whispered as Gilthunder gazed up at the five story house. "You may be off duty but your whole persona screams police officer which is why the occupants are hiding their presence. Keep your eyes forward. You may begin your investigation when we are done with this errand."

They walked in silence until they came to a large set of buildings that Escanor recognised as Imperial College London, one of the capital's finest universities which specialised in scientific subjects. Students milled around, chatting in twos and threes, large satchels swinging over their shoulders as they headed towards the pubs and bars, the streetlights beginning to twinkle in the gathering twilight. He took a deep breath of the cool, crisp air. The city changed as day slipped away, a frisson running up his spine as London prepared for the frenzy of another night.

"Vivian works in the medicine department," Merlin proclaimed as she made her way through campus without using any navigational aids.

"Were you a student here?" asked Escanor as he watched Merlin practically skip over the cobbles, face aglow as she glanced around.

The detective turned to him, her lips twitching at the corners. "Good deduction," she murmured. "I studied analytical chemistry here, along with all the other subjects they had to offer. Undergraduate degrees are insufficiently taxing," she complained.

Escanor was silent, thinking back to his own student days. Unlike Merlin he had found the whole business far from easy. Gilthunder's right jaw suggested he shared Escanor's opinion, and the two shot each other a look as they followed Merlin through a small, narrow into an ill-lit passage which was lined on each side by doors identical in appearance save for various names pinned to the wood on faded plaques.

"These are the postdoc offices," Merlin hissed as they continued down the corridor. "Vivian's is just… here," she said triumphantly, rapping a sharp knock on a door as she spoke, ignoring the indignant "Hey!" that came from within as she pushed it open.

"Good evening, Vivian," Merlin said cordially. Escanor peeked inside, his eyes drawn to the spartan interior, bookshelves full of neatly organised tomes lining the wall to his right, and piles of papers scattered over the desk. The slender woman within glared at them, wide eyed, before her brows drew together in a fierce scowl and he had to resist the urge to grab hold of the detective's arm as she actually snarled at them.

"Who are you?" the scientist snapped. "And how dare you… Oh!" she exclaimed as Gilthunder entered the room. "Welcome, sir," she gushed, the harsh tone completely gone from her voice. Escanor gulped as she batted her eye lashes ostentatiously and smoother down her hair as she looked over the police officer. "What brings such a handsome young man to my office?"

"I-I… um…" Gilthunder's cheeks glowed red as Vivian gazed at him, her head tilted to one side and a simpering smile stretched over her face.

The police officer gave Merlin a sideways look of contempt. "We can discuss this later," said the detective brusquely as she caught his eye. Then she turned back to Vivian, whose eyes were still fixed on Gilthunder. She was leaning forwards a little, her arms pressed to her sides to push out her cleavage. "For now, I would like to ask you about your employer. Yes, we know you are working for Arthur Pendragon," Merlin declared.

Vivian gasped. Escanor had always the notion that blood draining from somebody's face was an invention of the poets, but he could see the woman blanch, her skin turning an ashen grey as her mouth fell open.

"There is no need to be coy," Merlin began. "I am well aware of the hardships academia brings. I imagine the prospect of a steady income was more than you could decline. If you tell us what you know and help us convict the rest of your organisation, I dare say we will be able to persuade the police to leniency where it comes to your own contribution."

"Will we now?" Gilthunder muttered under his breath, but his words were masked by a sudden rush of sobs. Vivian broke down, tears streaming in rivers to leave tracks in the copious power smeared over her face. She rushed at the police officer who, to his credit, stood ramrod straight, his face glossing over to a mask. The only thing that gave his disgust away was the way his mouth twitched slightly as Vivian pressed against him to sob into his shoulder.

"I didn't want to, not the killing," Vivian managed to rasp out between noisy intakes of breath. "It was fun at first, coming up with new drugs the Olympics gits wouldn't find. They're all so condescending," she said, the touch of temper stemming her tears. "But murder… it was not something I signed up for!"

Merlin inclined her head. "I believe you," she said, "but whatever your reservations you have now brought about several deaths. Monspeet died as a result of the forced administration of drugs _you _created," the detective continued sternly as Vivian spluttered.

The scientist collapsed in on herself. "I know," she whined, brown eyes wide and pointed squarely in Gilthunder's direction. He reached out to him, running her hand along his lapel and the inspector swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing with his discomfort. "I… didn't mean it! I told them only to give that batch in small doses…"

"So as you see you are in need of our protection," Merlin continued softly. "Tell us all you know. Help us to put a stop to this."

There was a long pause. "Alright," a small voice eventually murmured. Vivian stood, smoothing down her dress before she folded demurely before her. Speaking directly to Gilthunder she rushed on, "But not here. It's not safe. I-I think they're watching me. There's an old storage room in the building opposite…"

"I know the one," Merlin replied. "You propose that we should meet you there?"

"Yes. Come back in an hour. I'll be there, and… I'll tell you everything," Vivian went on, her eyes still on Gilthunder who was rubbing the back of his neck. Merlin nodded, then turned on her heels, Gilthunder practically springing from the room. Escanor had a little trouble keeping up with them as they practically hurtled out into the street.

"You. Are. The worst!" Gilthunder fumed as he strode alongside Merlin, the sound of his boots on the cobbles resounding in the air. "You took me as… as…"

"I deduced that Vivian would be more forthcoming if we were accompanied by a conventionally attractive young man. Her social media profile was… suggestive," Merlin said thoughtfully. "She only interacts with men who do not look dissimilar to yourself. She definitely has a type. Now, sulking does not become you," Merlin added crossly as Gilthunder huffed.

The arguing continued all down the street and into the nearest pub, where the three passed the time until their appointment. The conversation was terse and snappy, each of them nursing glasses of diet sodas filled with ice, condensation oozing in beads down the sides. It was with some relief that Escanor rose on Merlin's command, and they trod the roads slowly back to the university, eeking out the time until their appointment. He was excited, on edge, but still Escanor felt his pulse quicken when Merlin led them to a building dark with the shadows of the night, and he saw a door opening a little as they approached.

"All clear," a voice he recognised as Vivian's hissed from inside and he stepped forward, keen to get on with the case, keen to move on from the waiting and the cold tempers of the two investigators at his side. He arrived at the door, pulling it back and preparing to step into the room, Vivian's pale face smiling shyly before him.

"Escanor, no!"

He felt a sharp pain as he was yanked backwards from the threshold by his clothing, his collar digging into his adam's apple, cutting of his air and making him splutter. The force of the tug knocked him off balance, almost making him tumble to the floor. He cried out, twisting as he struggled to right himself. "Get back!" Merlin yelled as she grabbed Escanor's hand, her squeeze unbearably tight as she dragged him away, his legs fumbling for purchase as he unwillingly obeyed her directions, running backwards away from Vivian whose eyes were wide with fear.

"Gilthunder, run!" Merlin shrieked.

Escanor's eyes found the police officer, his mouth opening in a silent scream as the dark blue of the landscape suddenly flashed bright with white glare and orange flame. There, before he could turn round to face the direction of Merlin's pull, there was an immense, deafening boom, along with the scraping sounds of shattering glass and the thud of bricks falling to the floor. Sparks flew through the night, showers of gold falling all around him along with burning planks of wood and powdery dust. The air was foul with charcoal, and he choked out a cough, his lungs screaming for oxygen as dust coated his airways. His ears rang with agony and as his heart pounded almost painfully as sweat coated his palms and began to drip down his back. He caught another glimpse of Gilthunder's face, which had morphed with shock, before he was pulled round and his own legs turned numb as he ran and ran, letting Merlin lead him away, the police officer pelting after them. They ran, sprinted, flew away from the burning and the sudden heat until they could dip behind another building, shielding themselves from the horrific mess that had just engulfed their primary witness.

"What the fuck happened?" Gilthunder yelled as he pulled alongside them.

"Grenade," gasped Merlin, her voice hoarse. Escanor collapsed in a heap, wrapping his arms around his legs as struggled to breathe. "I heard the pin. There must have been gas in there judging by the smell. Call the emergency services. Quickly! Vivian might still be alive!"

As Gilthunder barked into his radio, Merlin sank beside Escanor and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Are you alright?" she demanded, her voice strained.

Escanor couldn't speak, but he gave a slight nod and Merlin visibly buckled, her head resting on his as she pulled him into a tight embrace. He fell against her, pressing his face into hers as her hand moved up to card through his hair. Tears pooled in his eyes as his insides melted in a confusion of horror, relief and misery and fear. He clung to the detective, his fingers digging into her clothes as he listed to the ragged sound of her breathing.

"I will kill them for this, if it is the last thing I do," she muttered darkly, the many sirens of approaching emergency vehicles screaming in harmony to drown out her decree.


	15. The End Of The Line

A/N: This is dedicated to lickitysplit, without whom this chapter would not have happened.

Hopefully Holmes fans will recognise the references to The Final Problem.

* * *

The atmosphere in Baker Street was so tense the air was practically vibrating with it. Escanor picked at the skin around his nails, his eyes darting from Merlin to Gilthunder and back again. The detective kept checking his phone, sighing and biting his lip as Merlin, arms folded across her chest, tapped her fingers against her sleeves.

All of them stared at the door in response to the thump of boots running up the stairs. Jericho had been dispatched to her brother's house, despite her rather forthright protests, so there was no introduction as Howzer burst into the room. "There's been another explosion," he gasped, his hair uncharacteristically out of place and sweat gleaming on his forehead in the electric light. "You were right. They went for that bartender you told us about."

"Did you get them out in time?" barked Merlin sharply.

"Yes." Howzer flopped down onto the sofa, rubbing his face with his hands. "That Ban guy made a bit of a fuss but I evacuated the bar and the surrounding buildings and took the three people who live in the bar itself to a safe house. By the time I got them settled and then back to Dalston…" Howzer rubbed his face again. "No one was hurt but there's nothing left of the bar but rubble. A gas explosion our experts say, but…"

"It was _them _." Merlin began to pace around the room, ending up at the window where she leaned on the sill to look out into the street. "It is too much of a coincidence for it to have been an accident. Arthur knew Meliodas had talked to us. He must have been watching the house. He ordered his people to kill Vivian and then went after Zeldris's brother because he divulged information to _me _. I… I am very glad to hear that they are safe," Merlin said as she turned to face Howzer. "I put them all in great danger."

"We are all in danger." Gilthunder's voice was a harsh rasp. His face was pale and his eyes underscored by dark shadow. "Until our operation is complete and the gang are under arrest, every single one of us is a target.

Escanor's hands worked more feverishly in his lap as Merlin nodded, her foot tapping softly on the carpet. "How much longer?" she asked.

Gilthunder extracted his notebook, leafing through the pages. "You were right about Vivian having second thoughts," the police officer said. "The notes she left in her home were enough to identify every single person working for the organisation, with names and addresses and everything. All most satisfactory were it not for the circumstances. But we need to go for them all at once, get the whole lot together. If some of them get wind of what we're up to and run then we're done for. So we need dozens of warrants and loads of personnel in place…"

"I said how much longer."

Gilthunder sighed. "Hard to say, but I think we'll have the whole lot in custody in another three days."

"And there is nothing I can do to speed things along?" the detective asked.

"Unfortunately not," Gilthunder replied. "We just have to wait."

"Then we will leave the capital." Escanor looked up in surprise as Merlin strode towards him, holding out a hand. He took it, allowing her to help him to his feet. "I will not risk your life again," said the detective as Escanor glanced down at their still-clasped hands.

"M-Merlin," muttered Escanor, his face flushing with heat. "I don't want…"

"You are, in all probability, the gang's preferred source of information," Merlin said, the usual authoritative notes to her tone softened considerably. "It is imperative that you are kept away from them. I know you want to help, but the best way you can do that is to leave the country, for the time being."

Their eyes met. Escanor opened his mouth, but the words stuck in his throat. He felt utterly miserable, his chest aching with distress and worry and hurt. "This is all my fault," he managed to whisper.

"It is _not _," Merlin emphasised. "You have done nothing _. _The fault lies with those who would terrorise our city. And they _will _be caught. Trust me," she urged, her grip tightening on Escanor's hand. "Please, come with me now. It is the best way." Escanor watched, his chest twisting as Merlin's face worked. "Please Escanor," she said softly. "I just… I have no idea what I would do if anything happened to you. And Gilthunder has this in hand. No one is more qualified than he to carry out an operation of this magnitude. Please."

Merlin's face relaxed as Escanor gave a nod. "If… if it is to please you, how can I say no. I do want to help though," he added more firmly as he looked round at the police officers. "I feel like I must be able to do something."

"You will undoubtedly be of use," Gilthunder agreed, "but this next bit is police work, and in all honestly I don't think I could get permission to take either of you to execute the warrants. The Commissioner is nervous enough as it is. Once we've got them all, I'll be delighted for your help with questioning the suspects. You really know how to read people."

Escanor gave another nod and Merlin smiled. "Good, I have packed for the both of us," she said briskly. Escanor coughed his surprise and the detective shot him an apologetic look. "I… I should have consulted you first, but I really think this is the right thing to do. And we need to leave now. Our train departs in two hours."

* * *

The Eurostar train began to pull out of the station, the whistles and hisses and the familiar bumping sound as they moved over the rails the mechanism jarring in his ears. Escanor wiped the sweat from his brow, breathing deeply as he tried to relax but his heart was racing and his pulse was ticking uncomfortably in his veins. His thick woolen coat was altogether too hot, and he fumbled with the large buttons as he tried to peel off the layer.

"You will have to excuse me for the melodrama. We had to cover our tracks," the detective panted as she and Escanor threw themselves onto the roomy, beige seats of the train. "If they find out we're leaving the UK…" The hollow look in her eyes which raked over the carriage and along the visible portion of the platform outside caused Escanor more worry than the recent explosion. Merlin did not relax until the train cleared the station and pale sunlight streamed through the windows to highlight her pale face.

He was out of breath. Their journey to the station had been more than a little circuitous. Rather than taking the tube straight to the station, he and Merlin had gone to Waterloo on the underground before changing lines and heading back across central London. They had been forced to run hard onto the train, passing a huge Christmas tree tastefully hung with red and gold baubles, their heels clacking across the polished floor as they pelted to the Eurostar. The guard had waved them quickly by with a pale face as he gave a cursory check of the tickets Merlin had grabbed from a man waiting for them just outside the station. Usually passengers had to arrive half an hour before boarding, but Merlin and the police had evidently managed to get that requirement waived.

Merlin sat in silence, her eyes tracking as she looked out of the window at the brown stretches of land and the trees bare of leaves. Winter had well and truly established itself and the greens of England had morphed to a nondescript sludge. Escanor thought of conversation openers, one after another, rejecting each one as he watched his partner's lips purse with worry. He felt uneasy seeing Merlin like this, the confident woman, the superhero he had come to rely on, showing her doubt so plainly.

It was only after an hour or so and once they had passed through the tunnel under the English Channel and so to France that Escanor dared ask, "Um… Merlin, where is it we're going exactly?"

The detective's eyes snapped to his and she gave him a wry smile. "That will be a surprise," she murmured before leaning back in her seat. "I am not sure myself yet. I can confirm that we will change trains when we get to the Gare du Nord, but other than that…"

Merlin ground to a halt as the breaks of the train started to squeal. Escanor snuck a look outside. The Eurostar had arrived at Calais station at the very edge of France. He was about to remark on how grey everything was - the platform was a slab of concrete and the sky a pewter mess of dark cloud - when the detective shot to her feet, her eyes wide. "The train is not scheduled to stop here," she whispered to Escanor as she retrieved her bag from her seat and slung it over her shoulder. "Something is amiss."

Before he could reply, a message cracked over the tannoy. "Mesdames et Messieurs. Nous sommes arrivés à la gare de Calais-Fréthun. Mes excuses pour le dérangement. Nous nous arrêtons brièvement ici pour les vérifications de maintenance et nous allons bientôt nous déplacer."

"Quickly, Escanor," Merlin hissed at him and he rose at her command, his legs trembling slightly as he stuffed his coat onto his arms and reached for the bag he had stowed on the shelf overhead. "We have to get off this train, immediately. Maintenance my foot," she muttered darkly over the guard's statement, now being repeated in English, as she sashayed down the corridor to the nearest door. With a sharp tug, she pulled on the emergency handle which released the mechanism. "Come on," she called over her shoulder, hopping down onto the platform below. He followed, pulling the bags with him, carefully descending the rather steep steps of the train.

"What should we do?" Merlin groaned.

Escanor swallowed hard to hear the indecision in her voice, but rallied himself, his eyes sweeping to the electronic display which gave notice of the imminent arrival of several trains. "We could…"

"There you are," a voice growled behind them, cutting off his words. Escanor turned, his jaw dropping as the man he recognised from the photographs on Merlin's whiteboard stalked towards them, his hands curled into fists and his long, dark hair whipping around in the wind. "You did well to evade me in London. But you cannot escape. My will is indomitable."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Fraudrin, or should I call you Dreyfus," replied Merlin as she took a step towards their foe, placing herself between him and Escanor. "Not a step further," she warned as Dreyfus gave a leer. "I have no desire to harm you."

The laughter that followed made Escanor's blood run cold. "You still do not understand," Dreyfus said as he continued on his path towards the detective. "This is the end of the line. For both of you. I have been instructed to terminate you and I never fail to carry out my orders."

"No!"

Before he knew what he was doing, Escanor made a grab for Merlin, pulling her to the side as Dreyfus leapt at her, a knife glistening in his outstretched hand. Escanor just about managed to yank the detective out of the way of his swing, his heart sinking as Dreyfus pirouetted in the air, aiming another blow for the detective's head. For a large man he was decidedly agile. "Merlin, look out!" Escanor yelled and, with a deep breath, steeling himself for the impact, he hurtled himself at their opponent, screaming as he aimed a punch straight at the man's solar plexus.

He made contact! His hand was radiating with pain, but Escanor barely noticed it. He had done it! Finally, he had proven his worth. But before he could congratulate himself, Escanor was hauled into the air by the collar of his shirt, his windpipe crushed by the fabric as Dreyfus picked him up like a sack of rubbish.

"This is all very tiresome," Dreyfus said with a sigh. Escanor spluttered, white spots appearing behind his eyes. Then, suddenly, he fell to the floor, gasping for breath like a landed fish, his lungs screaming with relief as his throat was released from its ligature and oxygen flowed through him. He heard Merlin's footsteps on the ground beside him, then a harsh cry and a strangled gurgle made his heart seize in his chest, his ears ringing with the following bevy of screams.

He shook his head, unable to reorient himself before he was dragged to his feet, his throat stinging as he gulped down more air. "Come, we must board that train. Now!" Merlin cried into his ear as she hauled him across the platform. Sure enough, as he had expected a train was drawing into the station, wheels clattering on the rails before pulling to a stop. The doors slid open, and quick as a flash Merlin pulled him past the disembarking passengers, some of whom tutted while others shot them sour looks.

He glanced around the carriage, collapsing into a seat and massaging his neck. "W-what did you do to him?" he managed to rasp our as Merlin sat down beside him. His throat was raw and painful, and he fought hard but failed to suppress a cough that burst forth from his chest, wincing as it stung his larynx. "Is… is that man okay?"

"He will live, I expect," Merlin intoned as the train started to move, slowly at first, then picking up speed as it cleared the station. Escanor looked out at the platform and could see a crowd of people gathering together, their bodies shielding Dreyfus from view. "I hope he will be conveyed to a hospital without delay. I should have killed him, perhaps, but it would have been more awkward than it was worth to dispatch him. Do not concern yourself," she added as she looked at Escanor, taking his hand. He averted his eyes from the window. "Dreyfus is no longer in a state to alert his masters of our presence in this country, or to follow us further. He will never lay his hands on you again. We are safe, for now."

Escanor's mouth ran dry, and he started to splutter out an apology but Merlin rushed on, "Do not dare to say you let me down." Her grip on his hand tightened and she moved closer to him until their sides pressed together. "You were so brave. But, please, in future leave these thugs to me. I am trained in many of the world's martial arts."

They stayed together, her warmth sleeping through to his arm and shoulder and Escanor's breathing returned to normal. "Merlin, I…" he began, then ground to a stop. This was the moment. Too many times they had nearly lost their lives, and who knew if they would survive the next occasion. It was now or never. _I care about you. I want to be the one to protect you. I love you. Can you love me too? _he asked over and over again in his head, but each time he tried to vocalise the words they would not leave his lips, no matter how hard he tried.

"Did you hear that?" Merlin asked sharply, pulling away from Escanor as a hum of indistinguishable crackle sounded over the tannoy. "We, my dear Escanor, are on our way to Switzerland. This train is going to Zurich. I do not think we are still being tailed, but just in case we will take another train to somewhere obscure when we arrive in the capital."

Escanor nodded, swallowing once more. He felt the urge to relax back into his seat, to shut his mouth and never speak another word again. But the phrases he wanted to say kept running round in his brain. _I love you. Can you love me too? _

"Merlin… I-I care about you," he managed to rasp out, ducking into the collar of his shirt like a tortoise as he felt his cheeks flame. "I… just want you to know that."

"I do know that, Escanor." He forced his eyes to meet hers. Merlin was smiling at him, but with none of the teasing or insouciance he had come over the months to expect. "I do know you care about me. I care for you too. I know you did not want to leave London," she said as she leaned back in her seat so that their shoulders were touching once more. "And I want to thank you for agreeing to come with me."

"I just want to be of actual use." Escanor fixed his gaze on the seat opposite and the yellow lines snaking across a bright green fabric background. "I should have stopped him. I should have…"

"Your attack gave me the chance I needed to disarm him." Escanor's eyes snapped to hers, his heart skipping a beat as Merlin smiled. "I know I said you should leave these people to me, and I know you feel like you are somehow not good enough, but I was wrong and so are you. From the very first moment I saw you in our consulting room, when you were searching for a room you could afford, I knew you for a remarkable man who has been through a tough time. You are still that man. You are still the kind, resourceful, determined person I chose to be my partner. And I want that still, and always."

She took his hand in hers and he wondered if she could feel his pulse racing. Was he hearing her right? Could she really be feeling the same way as he? He was about to ask when Merlin continued, "I know that was a setback but this is the right thing to do. Gilthunder is very capable and to have us there, amateurs with no official standing who are targets of the organisation, would have done nothing but distract him from the upcoming operation. I am sure he will be successful."

Escanor nodded, but his disappointment was assuaged as Merlin took a deep breath and declared, "We will return to our home, testify against Arthur and his employees, and you and I will go back to the way we were before. And that is what I want, for both of us," she said softly. "I care for you too, and I always will."

Their heads rested together, Escanor's heart still aching, but his worry had gone as the train zipped through the snowy, mountainous countryside.


	16. The Reichenbach Falls

A/N: This is the end! For those of you following this story thank you so much for all your comments both here and privately. I am so grateful to you for reading. I hope you find this finale enjoyable.

Massive massive thanks to lickitysplit for beta reading this story and making it at least thirty times better. You are amazing to work with and I love you.

Please let me know what you think!

* * *

At Zurich station, Escanor bought tickets to the first destination listed on the departure board, a place called Meiringen. He had never heard of it, but liked the sound of the name. Since leaving France, Merlin had relaxed considerably and Escanor took his cue from her, humming to himself as he bought black coffee and pastries from a small vendor before visiting a book shop to procure a newspaper in English, a guidebook and map of Switzerland. It was a country he had not visited previously, and he was keen to learn more about its history and culture before he and Merlin returned to the UK.

As they sat on the train, paper cups in hand, Escanor buried himself in the guidebook, enjoying the shiny photographs of picturesque villages, delicate wildflowers and majestic snow-covered mountains. "We're going to the place where the meringue was invented!" he declared as he munched happily on a pastry.

"I like meringue," Merlin remarked as she, rather listlessly, also ate her confection. She glanced down at her phone, and, biting his lip, Escanor resumed his perusal of the guidebook.

"Please excuse me," Merlin said gently as she leaned forward in her seat. "I am hoping that Gilthunder will have some good news for us soon. He has promised to tell me when the operation is over, whatever happens," she explained. "I will breathe far more easily when it is confirmed that Arthur Pendragon is safely behind bars."

"Um… Merlin. I wanted to ask you… why is he doing this, do you think?" Escanor placed the book in his lap as Merlin's eyes narrowed. "I mean, he's a high profile person. I looked him up," he went on as Merlin gave a curt nod of encouragement. "He has money and influence. Vivian needed security, and Zeldris strikes me as the sort who never feels like they have enough cash, but Arthur isn't like that, or at least he didn't come across that way. He's a successful businessman, so why…"

"Why has he chosen to devote his life to crime?" Escanor nodded and Merlin smiled. "I agree with your assessment. The proceeds of crime are not his main motivation. He enjoys it." Escanor swallowed as Merlin continued, "As you said, Arthur has all he requires from life, but the allure of well organised crime is extremely strong. I have felt its pull myself on several occasions. I am able to obtain satisfaction from solving crimes, but I would be lying if I did not admit to myself at least that there would be equal satisfaction in working for the other side."

Escanor stared and Merlin gave a small chuckle. "I would not expect you to understand it," she said. "You are one of the most upright individuals of my acquaintance. But the thrill, the rush of organised crime is incredible, especially for an operation like Arthur's where he sells intricate plans on demand and controls almost unlimited resources. The possibilities are endless."

"If you say so."

Merlin laughed as Escanor felt his cheeks flush with heat. "You are indeed very upright," she said with a smile. "It is no bad thing, Escanor. No matter how attractive organised crime may be, it is unequivocally wrong. The way they manipulated you, for example…" Merlin ground her teeth. "It is better to be on the side of the angels."

Escanor nodded, returning Merlin's smile. "Let us hope this ordeal ends soon," she remarked as she once more glanced down at her phone, her brows drawing as she looked back up to scowl at the window.

The next two days he spent exploring the area. Meiringen was set up for walking and Escanor enjoyed the fire of the cold, clean air in his lungs, the dramatic scenery and the peace of the countryside. There were few tourists around, the skiing season having not quite started while hikers generally preferred the summer months. He explored alone while Merlin ensconced herself in their hotel, dividing her time between her research and frantically texting Gilthunder. Escanor did his best to lift her spirits, but she became more and more taciturn with the ongoing absence of news.

It was over breakfast the next morning that Merlin finally snapped. Her phone buzzed like an angry bee from its place next to the coffee pot. The detective snatched it up immediately, her face clouding as she read the message.

"He actually told me to leave him alone," she muttered crossly, causing the waitress who was conveying the eggs benedict they had ordered to blanch slightly as she set down the pristine white plates. The waitress shot them a terrified look, then scurried away like a rabbit as Merlin hissed, "I taught Gilthunder everything he knows and now…"

"Um… Merlin, perhaps he's right?" Escanor took his napkin and laid it in his lap. "I mean, that's why we're here? You said yourself Gilthunder would be in a better place without having us to deal with. Should we, perhaps…"

"Yes, yes." Merlin sighed, the side of her lip curving a little as she looked at him. "You are right, Escanor," she added in a softer tone. "I did indeed say that."

They ate in silence. Merlin's eyes darted from her phone to the window then back again until, with a huff, she picked up her handset and stowed it away in her bag. "I will follow your excellent example," she declared as she set down her cutlery with a clatter. "Did you plan to go for a walk today?"

Escanor nodded quickly. "There are waterfalls not far from here. They're worth seeing apparently."

"Then I shall accompany you." Merlin grinned. Pleased, but very much surprised, Escanor jolted before returning her smile. He had not thought that Merlin would ever leave the hotel, and he had been plotting several schemes to try and get her outside. She had been looking washed out.

Merlin snorted. "I know what you are thinking. But it does not look as if it will rain, and the exercise will keep my mind away from what is happening in London. Lead on," she commanded as she stood up from the table. Escanor gave a slight nod as he too rose from his seat, grabbing his backpack, which he had already prepared for the day. While Merlin fetched her coat, he looked around at the other guests; they looked so peaceful and unperturbed, such a contrast to the frenzy of his last few weeks on earth. It was thankfully not long before Merlin returned and followed him from the hotel. Together they trudged along the wide, main street and so into the snowy quiet of the countryside.

* * *

"You're supposed to do this in summer," Escanor said a little apologetically. The walk had been invigorating, but the going had been tough in places. The route to the falls twisted and turned up the side of a mountain, and the winter weather had made some of the passes tricky to climb.

Merlin shrugged her shoulders. "It matters not," she declared. "This is as good a way as any to pass the time."

His attempts to draw the detective into conversation stalled at first; Merlin responded to each of his remarks but the train of chatter did not progress for more than a few brief sentences before Escanor had to throw another starter into the mix. But as they made their way up the steep incline Merlin began gradually to stop placing her hand against the side of her bag, checking to see if her phone was vibrating, and started to talk in earnest. Escanor too felt himself relax as they climbed up the mountain, nothing but clean air and the soft sound of their own feet treading on the dirt path to keep them company.

He snapped back to his senses when Merlin asked, "Is this what you thought you would be doing when you left Iraq?"

"Of course not," he replied with a laugh. "I thought I'd find some sort of boring job where I'd sit at a boring desk staring at boring spreadsheets. I certainly didn't expect to be in more danger now than when I was working in the middle of a former war zone."

Merlin stopped sharply, turning to face him. "Oh, don't worry," he rushed on quickly, kicking himself inwardly to see her looking at him with concern. "I wouldn't have it any other way. These have been the best months of my life. I can't wait to get back to London and start again."

"Alright then."

They continued on. At first, the rush of water sounded faint in the distance, like a continual smash of waves against the shore, but the noise strengthened and grew as they kept up the pace. Before too long, the rasp of the falls drowned out everything else. There was no wind, no birdsong, only the white noise of the water crashing down on its journey to the sea. As they gained the summit, bright eyed and faces shining with the exertion, Escanor looked over the edge to see cascades of white foam bursting over grey rock, the deafening roar ringing in his ears.

"The Reichenbach falls," Escanor yelled in triumph, breath catching in his lungs as he took in the sheer vastness of their splendour.

"You were right, this definitely qualifies as worth seeing," Merlin exclaimed. "I have never…" She stopped and their eyes met the elation freezing on her face in an instant. Both of them had felt the buzz in Merlin's bag.

Quickly, the detective pulled at the clasp and retrieved her phone, swiping at the screen to unlock it. Escanor watched her carefully as she read what was evidently a long message, his heart sinking slowly as her jaw worked and her mouth pressed together.

"Arthur got away," she spat, and Escanor's eyelids fluttered closed. "Gilthunder caught almost everyone connected to the gang, but missed their leader. Zeldris and Gelda escaped as well."

Escanor sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "A-all three of them?" he stuttered. "But that's impossible! How…"

"Dreyfus must somehow have managed to send them information. I knew I should have killed him." Merlin thrust her phone back into her bag, her hands curling into fists. "I spared him and this is the consequence. They could be anywhere now. Anywhere in the world. Everything we have done to eliminate them has evaporated. Finding them again will be akin to retrieving a needle from a haystack."

He wanted to comfort her. That was his overriding instinct as he walked towards Merlin, tentatively reaching out a hand. "We'll find them," he called over the cacophony of the falls. "I promise. It's going to be okay." Merlin smiled at him, her hand drifting towards his, the skin of their fingers brushing together.

"It is best not to make promises you cannot keep."

The pair whipped round towards the voice. Escanor's mouth fell open as Arthur stepped towards them, a man he recognised from the many photographs as Zeldris following close behind. "You have made things very awkward for me, very awkward indeed," Arthur purred, his voice somehow carrying over the din of the water. "Did you really think I would let you live after all you have done? This is the end."

As if on cue, Zeldris pulled a knife from his belt, his dark eyes blazing as he made ready to lunge.

Merlin moved faster than Escanor would have thought possible. Out of the corner of his eye, he registered that the detective and Arthur were fighting hard, their bodies a blur as they aimed and dodged. His attention was locked squarely on Zeldris and the knife that gleamed like ice in his hand. He stepped backwards as his opponent advanced, and he shot a quick glance over his shoulder, his heart pounding like a drum to see the edge of the ground so close to his feet.

"Escanor, duck!" He did as he was told and fell to the floor. A quick wind rushed past him as Merlin soared through the air to land a blow with her foot directly into Zeldris's side. Arthur yelled, running after the detective as the knife flicked in her direction. Both men descended on her, pushing her back towards the precipitous drop which just a few yards away. Any minute and she would fall with the river.

How he managed his next feat he later could not recall. All Escanor knew was that he _had _to save Merlin, whatever the risk and whatever the cost. As legs danced around him, Escanor watched intently as the fighters got closer and closer to the mountain's edge. At the last moment, he grabbed for Merlin, pulling her to him even as she was tugged away from his hold. He held on to her desperately, refusing to let go even when he felt a crack beneath his palms and Merlin screamed, her agony echoing through his brain. He closed his eyes tight, breathing hard as the howls of the others began, their furious yells getting further and further from him to mingle with the grate of the water as it splintered over jagged rocks on its way to the river below. Still he held on to Merlin's leg, even as the cries stopped. They were gone. Zeldris and Arthur had gone over the edge and there was nothing left; nothing but water and sweat and tears and fear.

"Escanor," Merlin grunted and he opened his eyes to see her lying next to him in the dirt. At once he released his grip, wincing as the detective gasped, her face ashen grey as she pushed herself into a sitting position. "Do not dare to apologise," she managed to rasp out, a smile curving her lips as she shuffled towards him, cutting off the 'sorry' he had indeed been about to mutter. "You saved my life. I would far rather deal with a broken leg than have followed our opponents over the falls."

"They… they're gone." Escanor managed to sit up. "I didn't want… not like this."

"I know." Merlin shuffled a little closer towards him, flinching as her leg caught on the stony ground but managing to manoeuvre herself into a position where she could lay a hand on his shoulder. "But perhaps this is for the best. It is over and you are safe. London is safe. No one could have survived a fall like that, not even me," she said with a chuckle.

Escanor looked at her, biting his lip. He knew he should feel elation or at least relief, or even the panic that threatened him so often, but everything was dead, numb, as if it was happening to someone else. All he knew was that Merlin's hand was in his and he never wanted to let her go.

"Merlin… I… I've wanted to tell you something for a long time." Escanor drew breath, sucking in the cool air then forcing it out in an attempt to quell his emotion. "I…" He shook his head in frustration as his larynx shut down and he found he could not give voice to his thoughts. "I don't even know how to begin," he muttered, his gaze falling to gaze at the dirt beneath his legs.

"I know," Merlin whispered. She moved even closer to him so her breath ghosted over the shell of his ear. "I do know how you feel. And yes, I love you too," she murmured.

Escanor's heart skipped a beat as their lips finally met, her mouth slanting against his, drawing him closer. He kissed her again and again, each time more bold than the last, on the point of losing himself until Merlin shifted a little in his hold. "I… I am loathe to stop you but my leg is…" She looked at him apologetically and he pulled back at once, hastily rubbing the back of his neck. "And do _not _say you are sorry!" Merlin interjected, planting a kiss on his cheek. "But I do need a doctor."

Escanor pulled his own phone from his bag to call the hotel, relaying his rather garbled message to the surprised receptionist. "Help's on the way," he finally confirmed as he placed his phone back into his bag.

"And I have explained the situation to Gilthunder," Merlin added. "He is startled to say the least, but I think rather pleased. He is eagerly awaiting our return. I hope the doctors here are efficient. I want to get back to London as quickly as possible."

There was a pause, the water rushing in his ears until Merlin's hand found his. "I… do love you, Escanor," she said softly as she leaned in towards him and at once his arms were around her as he carefully positioned himself so he was at her side.

"I love you too," he said in reply, his eyes closing as Merlin's lips met his own.

* * *

The sun beat down like a fierce fire, bouncing off the golden sand of the beach, flickering over the waves and threatening to scorch her skin. She shifted into the shade of the large umbrella positioned over her head, taking the sunglasses from the table beside her and quickly placing them over her eyes. She could not show the other tourists who were laughing and playing and generally enjoying themselves that she was a mess of tears amidst all the smiles.

She let the newspaper she had been reading drop to the floor. The headlines said it all. Arthur's reputation was in tatters. Many of her former colleagues had been charged and were fighting each other to be the first to spill the beans and so take a miserable few years off their sentences. _Imbeciles _, she raged in her head. _Traitorous imbeciles. I'll settle every single one of them. I'll… _

She swiped a tear from her cheek as she recalled the rest of the headlines. Zeldris was dead. The paper carried an interview with Escanor of all people. He was being lauded as some sort of hero, the saviour of Britain. He and that detective who had ruined it all. She snorted. This was a man she knew first hand to be no more than a miserable shell of a human who struggled on occasion to leave his bed in the morning. To see him looking so well, smiling beside Merlin for the press photographers, set her teeth on edge.

It was this _nobody _who had described the scene that played out at the top of the Reichenbach falls. Zeldris, her Zeldris, had gone over the edge. She closed her eyes tight as a wave of nausea rippled through her stomach. She would not think of what had befallen the man she loved, the man she had cherished with everything that she had. She would not dwell. She would not grieve. All that was left to her was to seek her revenge.

Gelda was just about to pick up the paper to find out more details about her former patient, when a loud cough sounded behind her. Furiously she glared in the direction of whoever was reckless enough to disturb her train of thought. She stared hard. It was not one person but two, their stances so familiar the tears fell once more, this time unchecked. Gelda somehow found herself on her feet, pulling her sunglasses from her face, her heart singing with joy as she pelted towards the man who she had thought she would never see again.

"Zeldris," she cried, sobbing into his shoulder as he wrapped two strong arms around her, pulling her close. "I thought I lost you," she whispered as she pulled back to look into his face, searching his features. It was definitely him: his dark eyes and dark hair, the determined set to his jaw, everything she adored of him was perfect and in place. "How did you survive? The paper said you went over the falls."

"It's a long story," Zeldris said with a low rumble of a chuckle, "but in short, I owe my life to Arthur. I'll explain it all later. But know this. I will never leave you," he murmured into her ear. "I love you, Gelda. Whatever happens I will always come back to you."

"Ahem." The pair pulled apart as their boss cleared his throat. "I hate to break up the party," Arthur said cheerfully, "but we have work to do. We have an empire to rebuild. And I will not rest until that witch of a detective and her pathetic accomplice have paid for their insolence. I've got nothing to pay you, not yet anyway, but I ask will you join me? Will you help me remove all traces of Merlin and Escanor from this earth? Because you are the best and I cannot do it without you."

"Gladly," Gelda replied, Zeldris nodding in agreement, her eyes narrowing as his fingers laced together with hers.

"Excellent, then come on. Let's get started." Arthur grinned at them, then turned and paced along the beach, Zeldris and Gelda following the footsteps he left behind in the sand.

* * *

A/N: And there will be a sequel. Next up, The Hound Of The Baskervilles... coming in 2020. Until then, have a very merry Christmas if you celebrate it and have a happy new year!


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